Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole
by supernaturaldh
Summary: Sam's first crush happens to be right in the middle of a hunt, what ensues is confusion, mistakes, and repercussions. Best Horror/Ghost SN.TV Awards 2008  Repost
1. Chapter 1

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 1**

**Daydreamer**

Fifteen year old Sam Winchester's mind was a million miles away. Katie Hacker the only thing he could consciously think about. _She was beautiful_. He could still see her sitting next to him in sixth period, long brown hair cascading lightly over her shoulders, twinkling blue eyes gazing over at him. _She was beautiful_. He sighed; the thought of her velvety hand holding his making chills run up his spin. _She was just perfect._

Sam's stood, body slouching, head propped up on his hands, both fingers grasping at the shovel that was stuck in the dirt. Dean gazed at his dreamy eyed brother, standing in the middle of a dark, cold graveyard; thoughts obviously somewhere else.

"Sam, Sammy Winchester….yoo-hoo." Dean quirked up his eyebrows, eyes taking in his little brother, hand waving haphazardly, fingers snapping in his baby brother's face.

"Sam, What the hell you doing over there, son? Leaning on a shovel, hoping for a hole?" John Winchesters firm voice boomed through the air and pierced Sam's daydreaming mind. He pushed off the shovel pulling his head up to his full height, eyes blinking as he looked owlishly at his dad.

"Damn Sammy, look alive. You got to move the shovel to dig the hole." John snorted out; eyes squinting over at Dean; John's own lips curling up slightly at the edges.

Dean shook his head; his brother was a real freak of nature. _No where is it written that little brother's grow 4 inches taller than their older brothers in three short months_. Sam was all legs and arms now. The clothes purchased not four months ago hanging limply on his thin frame

"Huh?" Sam blinked his dazed eyes at his Dad.

Dean broke out in a hearty laugh piercing through the silent graveyard. _Not only did he look like a freak, he acted like one too_. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." He shook his head as he pushed his shovel into the dirt and flung it over his shoulder.

Sam had recently turned into a daydreamer, gazing out into nothingness constantly. So very Un-Sam like; John had been shocked with his recent behavior. Sam had always taken everything so seriously. Hell, since he was two years old, he had attempted to run the Winchester house single-handily with his stomping foot and demanding attitude. John had to nip it in the butt constantly with his youngest; keep him under control, so this turn of events had John quite perplexed. _Who was this gangly daydreaming boy and what did he do with Sam?_

Sam quickly focused on the task at hand, glaring over the shovel at his older brother, who was still laughing like there was no tomorrow. He dug the shovel in the cold hard ground as he mouthed at Dean, "Shut up." Dean snorted and only laughed harder as he continued to dig.

John Winchester glanced around the dead grass and rocks of the old graveyard, shotgun slung to his shoulder, eyes piercing the icy black air. He was keeping watch while his boys dug up the remains of Beauregard Plymouth. 'Ole Bo', as Dean liked to call him, was buried in the middle of no where Illinois at an old family plot. It had taken 19 year old Dean Winchester, and his Dad, a week of research to locate the graveyard. Seems 'Ole Bo' had taken to haunting the woods surrounding Standing Rock, Illinois exactly fifty years since he committed suicide. "Ole Bo' had killed four young men in the last month, one every Wednesday, like clockwork. The research had been vague as to why he did himself in or what he was after; and hell John didn't care; just salt and burn the bones, so the killings ceased and move on. John snickered to himself. It would have been nice if his 'book smart son' had done some of the background, he was always quicker on the uptake and would have probably untangled the mess with a lot more answers; but John couldn't seem to get the teen focused that long these days. He was starry eyed and engrossed in his own thoughts most of the time now. John wouldn't have a clue about it if Dean, his oldest, had not given him the lowdown; a new girl at school had Sammy all tied up in knots. He shook his head; he remembered that feeling, to be that young, infatuated. The overwhelming urge to talk to someone so bad that it made your palms sweat, your chest hurt, and no words capable of coming out of your mouth. He knew, it was every boy's passage to adulthood, and he would try and let Sam suffer through, and get past it on his own. He chuckled, Dean on the other hand, well he would continue to make Sam's life a living hell, because, well, just because.

"Dean, climb out of that hole and let your brother do it." John's eyes glinted down at his oldest. Dean grinned up at his dad and threw the shovel out of the hole and clambered over the edge of the dirt mounded on the sides.

"Aw Dad, come on. I hate doing this part by myself." Sam whined. He gazed up and out of the hole at his dad and brother who both stood at the mound of dirt grinning down at Sam.

"Oh come one Sam, it's the first time you been focused on anything but girls this week." John winked at his youngest; Sam feeling his face flushing a bright red, he lowered his head in an attempt to hide his features under his long bangs. "Humph" he muttered, as the shovel fell heavily to the top of the casket, sending dirt and wood splinters flying out around him.

Dean let out a loud cackle as he nudged his dad with his elbow. Both John and Dean slid back a few feet, to escape the wrath of Sammy busting open the casket with a good amount of force. Sam continuing the pounding with the shovel until the top of the casket was a shredded mess, and the bones of 'Ole Bo' were staring up at him.

"Guess we pissed him off." Dean grinned at his dad. John merely winked at his oldest, eyes still watching his youngest in the whole. The gun was still perched in his fingers, his ears tuned to the noises around the dark cemetery.

The coffin broke open easily and Sam leaned the shovel to the side as he moved the wood and splinters away with his gloved hands. Sweat perspiration rising on his forehead. "I need a light" he yelled, never looking up from his work.

Dean took opportunities to mess with his kid brother very seriously, and this seemed like a good one. He raised his hand and flung the flashlight from his fingers into hole, bouncing it lightly off Sammy's head with a plunk. The light fell to the uncovered skeleton, shining around on the rotting bones of 'Ole Bo'. The image of the dead man sent a slight shiver through Sam's body.

"Damn it Dean." Sammy removed one glove and rubbed his lumpy head with it. He leaned over to pick up the flashlight, leaning the shovel against the dirt wall with his other hand. The light glimmered off something that 'Ole Bo' seemed to have clutched in his rotting fingers. Sam pushed the flashlight to his gloved hand and reached his cold fingers down through the bones to pick up the tarnished object; his own eyes peering at it interestingly.

"Get a move on son; we ain't got all damn night." John Winchester's stern military tone caused Sam to flinch to attention. He quickly shoved the object in his coat pocket and yanked up the shovel, climbing out of the hole.

Dean covered the bones with salt and gasoline, eyeing Sam's close position, he pushed him back from the edge with his hand, Sam stumbling and falling to the ground with the motion. "Shit Sammy, get back."

"De...eeean." Sammy whined.

Dean struck the match on the box with a bright sizzle and flung it into the hole. The bones of Beauregard Plymouth cracking and fizzing as the bright orange flames licked around the open grave.

Suddenly the wind took on an ominous howling as it grew in intensity around them. A large grey mist began wafting out of nowhere and hovered over the burning bones. Sam shimmed like a turtle on the ground with his hands and legs pushing him to get away from the ghostly figure. Dean stumbled over Sam's long legs and fell on his face to the ground, arms catching him with a grunt. John Winchester pulled his gun to his eye with a steady hand and leveled the sights on the apparition of Beauregard Plymouth; he eased his finger lightly across the trigger.

"Go straight back to hell, you son of bitch." John growled at 'Ole Bo' as his face came into the view, large ghostly fingers grabbing down at Sam. Sammy brought his arms up across his face to shield it from the ghoulish figure as the ghost ripped at his sleeve, claw like fingers cutting through the fabric. He felt the pain as it sliced through his forearm, blood rapidly soaking into his coat. Dean lay face down next to Sam, left arm covering his head. He quickly reached his right arm over and pulled Sam toward him, pulling him close to his body and pushing him into the dirt. His right arm holding Sam firmly beneath it.

"No." The ghost of 'Ole Bo' screeched as the rock salt shot rang in the still graveyard and he hissed and moaned loudly before he screeched off into the night air. The sound grew to a standstill, the graveyard quiet. Dean raised his head from the ground and quickly assessed that his brother was hurt; he leaned in to look at the wound. John stepped swiftly to his youngest and gently rose up his bloody arm; Sam wincing with the motion. Sammy squinting up at them both and then back to his arm.

"Damn it Sam, can't you get out of the way, like you're brother told you? You almost got you both killed." John Winchesters words cut right to the core of Sam Winchester, they always did. He grimaced in response, and bit his lower lip. Now was not the time to get into a verbal sparing match with is dad. Dean winked at his kid brother and pulled a dirty bandana from his jean jacket, wrapping it around his damaged arm. Sam nodded his appreciation as Dean pulled him to his feet. Sam swayed momentarily at the motion, but then took a deep breath and his vision steadied; Dean's hand never leaving his arm.

"Let's get back to the motel, and I will check it out." John let out an exasperated breathe as he ran his trembling fingers across his hair. _Damn kid, about gave me a heart attack. _He picked up the supplies and started back toward the Impala.

Dean and Sam followed, walking slowly behind. Dean was mindful of Sam's injury, watching Sam, as he held the injured arm to his chest. Dean walking right next to him, making sure he did not stumble along the way. Dean noticed that Sam's long bangs hung over his eyes, a dejected look plastered on his face. _Once again, Dad made Sam fill like crap. How can he do that so easily to Sammy?_ Dean didn't understand how his Dad could make his brother feel so stupid with only a few words. He really wanted to say something, but he was at a loss as to what exactly to say, so once again, he bit his tongue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 2**

**Father of Mine**

Sam fumbled his fingers across the tiny object lodged in the bottom of his coat pocket, his thumb rubbing across the smooth surface. His Dad would be pissed at him, if he knew he had found something in the grave, stuffed it in his pocket, and not mentioned it. He raised his head, eyes avoiding the rearview mirror and his Dad's eyes, instead letting his own eyes rest on the back of John's head. _He could never please his Dad anyway, so screw it. _

"Sam, you okay back there? Hey, hold that rag tight on your arm." Dean's voice echoed through the Impala as he turned his head, concerned eyes falling on the limp rag lying on Sam's arm. He nodded at Sam, and then turned quickly back to his Dad. _They should have checked Sam's arm when they got back to the car; but Dad was in such a freaking hurry to get back to the motel. _

"Yea, I'm fine." Sam mumbled as he gazed out the window, fingers pulling from the object in his pocket and back to the bloody cloth. Daydreams of Katie Hacker hung lazily on his mind. He could hear his Dad's voice droning on in the background, the hum of the Impala making his words intelligible. He looked down at the rag he held to his arm. The blood was soaking gradually through the dirty bandana, flowing slowly down into his jeans. He blinked his eyes as he tightened his grip on this wrist. He felt very light headed as the notion of Katie skipped across his thoughts. He closed his eyes as her image danced in front of his vision, his lashes fluttering slowly closed, his head lolling to his chest.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Sam, if you had been more careful, had your head in the game; well then, you might not have gotten hurt." John Winchester's eyes stayed focused on the dark road in front of the car, tone demeaning.

Dean shuddered slightly at his father's words. _His Dad could be such an arrogant ass sometimes. _

"Dad, cut him a break. Jez." Dean green eyes leered over at his father from the passenger seat.

"I'm just saying…" John tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "He needs to get his head out of the clouds." John's lips were sat in a firm line, his words cutting Dean to the quick.

Dean nodded his head, a slight grimace on his lips. _It was no use arguing with John Winchester. He was right, he was always right. _

Dean's eyes squinted through the darkened Impala to the back seat, Sam seeming to bounce around in the blackness. Concern itched up in his chest as he realized that Sam's eyes were closed, the bandana hanging limply in his fingers.

"DAD, STOP THE CAR." Dean's voice thundered, his hands fumbling at the passenger door; heavy metal flying open as the tires skidded. The car slammed to a sudden stop, Sam tumbling forward to the floorboard in a limp jumble of limbs. John Winchester gasped as he felt the force of Sam's body up against the back of his seat.

In a flurry of motion Dean threw the seat forward, the dim overhead light casting a low glow over Sam's gangly frame as he lay unconscious on the floorboard. Dean's arms lunged for his brother, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him hastily up on the passenger seat. His eyes surveyed the blood running down Sam's arm, his clothing covered in a dark red hue.

John Winchester eyed his son's from the front seat realizing the situation was spiraling quickly out of control. He grabbed the first aid kit from the front seat and shuffled hastily out of the car to Dean's side.

"Dad, we should have checked this. He's lost a lot of blood." Dean's voice quivered as he spoke the words.

"Damn it, he should have said something." John pulled the arm out and gazed down at the deep claw scratch across Sam's wrist. This needs stitches. Hold him still."

Dean pulled his brother up, positioning himself on the leather seat, holding Sam to his chest, his head rolling to Dean's shoulder. John wrapped the gauze bandage around Sam's forearm, tying it as tightly as possible to staunch the blood flow.

"That should hold it till we get back to the motel, 10 minutes tops. Sam, Sammy." John gently tapped the side of Sam's pale face, watching as his youngest struggled his way back to consciousness.

"Mmmmhummm." Sam mumbled as his lashes fluttered, eyes gazing up at Dean. His older brother was so close Sam could feel his breathe on his skin. He felt Dean's arms relax slightly as he blinked up at him.

"Hey Sammy." Dean whispered as he pulled his feet into the back seat of the Impala, John slamming the door closed with a thud. The car rumbled as John rived up the engine and it rolled down the empty highway.

"You should have said something, Sam." Dean whispered in Sam's ear. He released a heavy breathe he did not realize he was holding. His arms pulled his brother into a slight hug before he loosened the hold, eyes watching his baby brother.

"Why?" Sam muttered as he looked dejectedly up at his brother.

"Because, you are bleeding all over the Impala." Dean grinned at Sammy as the car rolled into the motel parking lot, pulling to a stop in front of their room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam vaguely remembered hobbling with his brother into the motel room, his arm being stitched close by his Dad. He drifted just below awareness, the events of the hunt for 'Ole Bo' totally wiping him out. He felt Dean slipping into the bed next to him, as he curled on his side and let the peacefulness of sleep pull him under.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Winchesters arrived back at their run down apartment just outside of Peoria, Illinois late on Sunday evening. Sam rushed through the front door, knocking haphazardly into Dean as he hustled to the room he and Dean shared, he had to get to his homework. The homework had lain dormant since Thursday afternoon; his Dad pulling him out of school on Friday for the hunt for 'Ole Bo'. He had been pissed off at the time, but his excessive bitching had done nothing but fueled the fire, his Dad being adamant that he had to go on the hunt. Sam was a good student, and he did not like getting behind in his schoolwork.

"What the hell, slow down Sam, Jez?" Dean slung his duffle to the floor of their barren apartment with a load thud.

"Sam", John almost yelled, "Get that homework done for school tomorrow."

Dean heaved out hot air as he watched John shuffle past him to his bedroom, closing the door_. What the hell_? Dean dropped limply to the old tattered couch. He shook his head, his Dad had not been too happy with Sam since the fiasco last night at the cemetery. He had harped on Sam the entire day; making the ride back a total bitch fest. Yammering on and on about Sam keeping his head in the game, how important it was to focus. Now, he was acting like Sam's homework was important. _That was total bullshit_. Dean was a little pissed at his Dad, couldn't Sam just be a blundering teenager every once and awhile. He grabbed up the remote and flipped on the old black and white T.V. shifting into the uncomfortable cushions; he would just leave Sam alone in their room, let him get his homework done.

The white noise of the T.V. woke Dean from his slumber, the remote lying lifelessly in his fingers. He gripped it and pushed the off button, stumbling slightly; he stood, stretched and glanced down at his wristwatch. It was 2:45 a.m., the light from the room he shared with Sam still bellowing into the living room. He blinked his gritty eyes as he made his way to the bedroom. _Surely Sammy was in the bed, he had school in the morning. _He nudged the door open with his hand and glanced over at the desk in the corner. Sam was lightly snoring, his head down on the book, droll running down his check and dripping to the page. A pencil was tightly grasped in his shaking fingers, papers scattered around his face. Dean stepped up behind him and gently removed the pencil from his hand; his eyes moving to the white bandage on Sam's arm from his wrist to his elbow; gaze finally settling on the paper underneath. The writing was not Sam's normal perfectly formed letters, but scribbled scratching that was difficult to read. He realized at that moment that the injuries to Sam's wrist and arm had made doing his homework difficult. _Shit, he needs a note for school tomorrow. He needs more time to get his homework done_.

Dean gripped Sam's shoulder in his fingers and whispered in a low voice. "Sammy, lets get in the bed." Sam jumped suddenly wide awake, large orbs looking at Dean.

"Home…work." He slurred in a sleepy voice.

"It's okay Sam. I'll get Dad to write you a note, get you more time." Dean led his brother toward the bed on his lazy sleep laden legs.

"He won't...do...it." He murmured as Dean gently pushed him down to the mattress.

"Yes, he will, Sam, yes he will." Dean pulled he covers up over his little brother. _Hell I'll write the damn thing_. Dean tucked the blanket under Sam's chin and pulled his tired body up on the bed next to him. He wondered to himself, when_ did his Dad and brother began this never ending battle of wills, and when did he get precariously stuck in the middle? _


	3. Chapter 3

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 3**

**Little White Lie**

Dean stood by the counter waiting as the coffee brewed slowly in the pot. _What was that saying, a watched pot never boils. Guess it was true. _He thumped his hand gingerly against that side of the old coffeemaker. It was just after 6:30 a.m., and Sam was getting ready for school. The long weekend of hunting had taken a toll on Dean and Sam, thus the need for coffee, strong black coffee; the kind that woke up your weary brain and gave you a caffeine rush. _The breakfast of champions_. Dean grabbed the two ceramic coffee mugs, rinsing them out in the sink as he eyed the dripping brew. _Come on, holy crap_.

Dean had woken Sam three times already, the last time forcefully dragging his ass out of bed and into the shower. He could still here the shower running, and hoped Sam realized what time it was; they needed to leave in 10 minutes to get Sam to John Davis High School, by 7:15. Dean poured two cups full of the dark liquid, doctoring his kid brothers up with sugar, lots of sugar, and cream. _Yuk, how does he drink it like that_? He glanced toward the living room and shook his own tired head. John Winchester lay sprawled out on the couch, Jim Bean bottle rolling by his limp hand. _Good thing he was on top of it, since Dad did not seem to know if Sam was up or not. _

Sam came barreling down the steps, gauze rolled halfway around his arm.

"Dean, help me. I can't get this wrapped very good one handed." He rushed to his brother's side at the counter. Dean eyed his brother and grabbed the gauze continuing to bandage his arm, tying it off with a small knot; he pulled Sam's shirtsleeve down and buttoned it for him.

"Thanks man". Sam grabbed for his cup of coffee with his bandage arm, grimacing slightly with the motion.

"Here Sammy, take this antibiotic and 2 Tylenol. We don't want that getting infected." Dean shoved the pills across the counter at his little brother. "And here's a note for school, telling them you got a sprained wrist this weekend and need more time to get our homework done." Dean shoved the crumpled note with his Dad's fake signature in his brother's coat pocket; Sam's arms full with books, and his steaming cup of coffee.

Sam leered over at him through his still damp bangs, eyes wide, smile curling up on his lips. "Thanks' for the little white lie, Dean."

"Not a problem, Sammy. Come on, you're gonna be late." Dean ripped the car keys off the counter, sipping from his own black coffee as they headed out the door, hinges creaking as it swung closed in their wake. John grimaced at the noise, but made no motion to wake up, or move.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam Winchester leaned his head, shoulders slumping in the wooden desk. He tapped his fingers lightly on his book; his eyes staring, gazing at the back of Katie Hackers head. _Her hair was so pretty_. He breathed out an unconscious sigh as his pencil twitched nervously on the paper in front of him. He quickly brought his gaze back to his English book as Katie turned slightly in her seat, knees curved into the aisle, eyes gleaming toward the back of the room. _Was she looking at him? _He raised his head slightly, hazel eyes peering out from underneath his long bangs, pencil poised lightly on his lips. _She is looking at me, she is, isn't she_? He fumbled with the pencil in his hand and then his fingers lost their grasp, the pencil falling with a light thump to the floor. He reached down to grab it, and suddenly, Katie Hackers hand was in front of his face, pencil floating daintily in her fingers.

"Here Sam."

_His name just floated off her lips_. Sam reached his shaky hand to the pencil, smiling shyly up through his hair at Katie. She returned the smile with a small nod of her head. _Say something you idiot. Sam, for gods sake, say something. _

"Th...Th...Thanks."

The bell rang as Katie turned in her seat, fingers reaching for her books.

_Dork._ _God, how did Dean make this look so easy?_

_oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_

Sam walked out of the school building and glanced around the parking lot; eyes spotting the Impala parked at the curb. He shoved his books over to his other arm; the cut under his shirt throbbing with the motion. He shuffled slowly, his long gangly limbs moving toward the car. He could see Dean's fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel, beating out a rhythm, humming his favorite rock tunes to pass the time. Sam grinned; he knew this as sure as he knew his own name. He had been riding shotgun with his brother for the last 3 years and he knew exactly what Dean did to occupy his time.

Suddenly, he saw Katie standing in a crowd to his right, cheerleaders, jocks. His eyes rose to meet Katie's as his long legs stumbled on the sidewalk, two left feet tangling up beneath him. He felt himself falling forward, books flying from his arms as he thudded to the concrete. Shrill laughter rang up around him as he struggled to pull to his knees, fingers grabbing wildly for his books. _Damn, he needed a backpack_. He felt the heat flushing on his face as one of the jocks next to Katie made a light comment.

"Damn Winchester, you are clumsy as hell." Scott Walker, the high school quarterback cocked his lips up in a haphazard grin as he gazed at Sam; elbow nudging at Katie and her friend. The chuckles pierced the air around him.

Katie bent her knees and picked up one of Sam's wayward books, eyes glimmering lightly as Sam. "Guess you'll need this for your English homework." She grinned.

Sammy felt weak kneed as he shyly smiled back at Katie, fingers grasping the book from her hand. "I guess so…so." He stuttered.

"You 'Kay?" Katie smiled, hand coming to Sam's sleeve, fingers touching the concealed bandage on his arm.

Sam grimaced at the motion, eyes blinking at Katie. "I'm f..fine." He regretted the words, as his voice came out a little squeaky from the pain that was running up his arm. He pulled away suddenly as a small frown rose to Katie's lips, the crowd laughing loudly around him.

"Well, okay then." Katie frowned as Sam pulled away, arm throbbing. He glanced down at his sleeve, eyes noting the blood that was seeping through his shirt. He turned hastily on his heels, leaving Katie standing, eyes watching him walk away.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam gripped the passenger door and wretched it open with his good arm, books tumbling to the back seat as he plummeted to the bench seat, eyes staring straight ahead through the windshield.

"Hate to tell you Sammy, but that was not very smooth." Dean's voice taunting through the Impala as Sammy leaned his head back on the seat.

"Just go, Dean, just go." Sam's voice pleaded with his older brother. Dean flinching as he noticed the blood now pooling on the fabric of Sam's shirtsleeve. He lightly brought his fingers to his brother's arm and then glanced back at the girl standing in the crowd, eyes still staring at Sammy. _This girl was really doing a number on his little brother. _

Dean pressed on the gas and pulled the Impala away from the curb and the eyes that were peering at Sam. _His fifteen year old brother was in dire need of a Dean Winchester 'How to get a Girl' lesson._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Once Dean had applied the antibiotic ointment to Sam's arm and tightly rewrapped it; he watched as his little brother slinked to their room, eyes looking slightly defeated, sad frown gracing his face. He cleaned up the mess in the bathroom, and followed Sam to the room, leaning into the doorframe, he gazed at his brother.

"Sammy, it wasn't that bad dude." He mused, his eyes squinting up in little laugh lines that he held at bay.

"Oh, yes it was. I looked like a big klutz in front of everyone." Sam rolled his eyes as he plopped down on the bed, eyes looking up through his long hair at his brother.

"So I assume that pretty little thing, that was watching you the entire time, is the one you are going gaga over?" Dean grinned.

"Watching me? She wasn't watching me." Sam cocked his head to the side, falling limply back against the pillows.

"Oh, little brother, she was watching you." Dean offered as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Really?" Sam's questioning eyes glared at his brother.

"Yes, reeeaallly." Dean reached out and patted his brother on the ankle.

"I doubt that." Sam huffed.

Dean shook his head at his brother. "Sammy, you got to be more confident. Have you seen the way the girls ogle at you?"

Sam sighed. "Girls don't ogle at me." He stated flatly.

"Whatever dude." Dean reached over and grabbed his brother by the stomach, pushing him off the bed with a thud.

"Deeeeaaaan." He mumbled in a frustrated breathe, curling his knees up to his chest, head hanging against his kneecaps. "Can I ask you something?" He whispered, as Dean smiled down at him curled up on the floor.

"How do you…you know…talk to girls?" Sam laid his head down on his arms, eyes closed, diverting Dean's face. Dean smiled. _His baby brother was growing up_.

"Sam, just be yourself; you don't have to be something that you're not. Jocks are not the end all send all, believe me; girl's like nice guys too." Dean stood, patting Sammy lightly on the shoulder as he exited the room. He faintly heard his brother's low voice in a whisper. "Thanks Dean."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sam blinked his sleep filled eyes into the dark bedroom, the sun long since hidden behind the trees. He could hear his brother's voice in the other room, having a conversation with his dad. _He must have fallen asleep doing his homework_. He twisted his stiff neck, hand lightly massaging it. His book falling to the carpet with a small thud; he strained, his fingers reaching for the lamp on the desk. He let his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness; as he fumbled for the light switch. He blinked slowly as he gazed at the room around him. Sitting suddenly up straight in the chair, a cold chill running up his spine; his body released a little shudder.

_What the hell? _He felt icy cold tendrils grasping at his arm as he stared straight into the cold face of Beauregard Plymouth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 4**

**Feverish Memories**

"Noooooooo." A meek voice pierced through the living room in a low whimper.

Dean tilted his head at a slight angle, ears straining to hear. _Was that Sam_? His father suddenly stopped his conversation, words hanging mid sentence in the air. Both men stood from their perch on the couch, eyes glaring at one another. John quickly grabbed the T.V. remote and pressed the mute button, as they strained to hear.

"Get A W A Y…" A loud thump accompanied the voice this time, forcing both men into action.

_What the hell?_ Dean stood and made rapid steps toward the bedroom he shared with his little brother; John Winchester hot on his heels, fingers wrenching the pistol from the back of his jeans. John's gun poised at the ready, he nodded his head at his oldest.

"Sammy?" Dean pushed the door open with his palm, eyes widening as he saw Sam's books and jacket on the floor, chair turned on its side, and his baby brother, body pressed as far up against the headboard as humanly possible, hands and feet pushing against the bedspread, eyes wide and panicked.

The older Winchesters looked quickly around the room, vast emptiness greeting them both. Dean stepped promptly to his little brother's side, his eyes glancing down at his brother's wild eyes, perspiration dampening his hair; breathe panting out of his lips.

"Sammy?" Dean spoke softly, his hands grabbing both Sam's forearms above the elbows and holding him tightly. "What is it?"

"B...B...Bo. He was right here. R...right here." Sammy stuttered out, eyes darting around the room. Not seeing anything, he slouched limply into Dean's grasp, head falling down on his chest, long hair coving his eyes. He heaved out a small breathe as he attempted to gain control of his confused mind. _He was here wasn't he? I did not just dream that?_

John looked quizzically from Sam to Dean and then stepped to the closet, using the gun barrel to move the clothes around; he ducked his head in, squinting into the darkness. _Nothing_? He made steady steps to the window and checked the lock, dropping to his knees he leaned down and looked beneath the beds. _Nothing? What the shit?_

"Sammy, what the hell is going on?" John demanded, his eyes glaring down at his youngest.

"He's got a fever." Dean whispered as his eyes met his Dad's. John's anger immediately turned to concern as he leaned down, pressing the back of his hand against Sam's forehead, lightly pushing the damp bangs from his son's face, he pulled his fingers slowly away. Sam moved his head up gradually, bloodshot eyes looking at Dean and his father, cheeks flushed slightly.

"I saw…saw him…He was here." Sam alleged as he tugged himself from Dean's grasping fingers.

"Sam…You got a fever, it was a nightmare." Dean offered, as he pushed his little brother back down against the pillow. "I'll get the Tylenol." Dean nodded to his Dad, standing; he made his way to the small bathroom in the hallway.

"Let me see that arm." John demanded as he sat down on the edge of the bed; callas fingers gently twisting Sam's arm and removing the bandage. The little red lines racing around the stitches giving him cause for concern. "I need to clean it again Dean, bring the first aide kit." His voice bellowed.

Sam's body flinched from his Dad's stern tone as he felt the blanket being pulled up to his cover his body, his eyes slowly closing shut. He felt the first aide kit being plopped down on the bed next to him and he heard his brother's voice piercing through his blurry thoughts.

"Sam, take these meds first, then you can sleep." Dean nudged Sam's cheek with his fingers, pills poised just below his lips. Sam obeyed, and opened his mouth, Dean stuffing the pills in and holding the cup to his lips. Sam's eyes fluttered open and a little smile curled up on his lips. "Th...Thanks Dean." His head fell heavily back to the pillow.

He felt a cool rag being ran across his forehead and down the sides of his face. He let his eyes pulled slowly open, Dean smiling down at him. He felt his Dad gently cleaning the wound with a cotton ball and peroxide. His father's cool breathe blowing lightly on his arm after each motion.

"He was…was here….I saw…saw him." Sam mumbled as a feverish sleep pulled him under.

"Sure he was Sammy, sure he was." John Winchester whispered as he patted his baby on the shoulder, and stood to leave the room. "Let him sleep, Dean. His fever's not that high, the Tylenol and antibiotics should do the trick."

Dean continued his movements with the damp rag. "I'll just sit in here awhile and make sure he doesn't have anymore nightmares." Dean's eyes never met his Dad's, never veered from his brother's face. John nodded and shuffled quietly out of the room, gun clinched tightly in his fingers. _He's fine, he's just fine_. He pulled his weary hand through his hair as he took one last look at his boys_. Dean, Dean, Dean, always taking care of his baby brother. _A smile curled on his lips.

Sam woke just before midnight, hearing his brother shuffling around in the bedroom, shoes being dropped to the floor, jeans falling limply from his body. He felt the blankets as they were tucked in around him. He felt Dean's fingers pressed against his forehead, then lightly flowing through his bangs and tugging them behind his ear.

"Fever's down." Dean mumbled, to himself as he flopped down on his twin bed, fingers gingerly pulling up his covers, fluffing up his pillow, and then settling into the mattress with a sigh.

"Dean?"

"You're awake? Dean's apprehensive tone carried across the room. How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think." Sam shuffled on the bed, blinking his eyelids to adjust to the blackness of the room. He struggled to get his feet free of the mound of covers, sticking one foot precariously out from the corner to dangle off the bed.

"Good, we'll see how you feel in the morning before we decide about school." Dean's voice carried through the darkness.

"I can go to school. I'm fine." Sam stammered out into the darkness. "Can't miss again, I'm already behind on my homework."

"Okay, Sam. We'll see." Dean's voice was slightly slurred, the pull of sleep taking over.

"Dean, about tonight…. I'm not crazy. I'm telling you 'Ole Bo' was here." Sam snuggled into the blankets, listening curiously for his brother's reaction.

"Sam, you were just having a nightmare. Go to sleep."

"No, No…I tell you…I saw him." Sam mumbled barely audible.

"Sam, why would Beauregard Plymouth be here? We burned 'Ole Bo', he's history…. remem…ber…" Dean's voice tapered off as sleep claimed him.

Sam listened as his brother's breathe evened out and he surrendered to the darkness. His own thoughts jumbled, fuzzy, but, something was nagging at him, just beyond his grasp. _We burned 'Ole Bo', he's history…remember. _Dean's words echoing in his feverish mind. _He was here. I saw him._ The lull of slumber began to pull him under into blissful nothingness. _We burned 'Ole Bo', he's history._

_Remember…remember…remember…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 5**

**Happy Days**

Sam Winchester kicked the tangled blankets off his feet, gritty eyes blinking open into the sun drenched bedroom; he tilted his head scanning the twin bed next to him. _No Dean_? He quickly pulled his arm up and squinted at his wristwatch_. 8:30… shit; I am so late for school. _He quickly slung his bare feet over the mattress standing on shaky legs, the room spinning around him. He fell suddenly back to the bed. _No school, he was okay with that_. Casting his foggy eyes down at the dirty floor, he blinked, attempting to clear his blurry vision. _When did he change clothes_? He shook his head; he could not remember when he put on his sleep pants and tee shirt. He did not remember when the fresh bandage was put on his arm; the last twenty four hours were a complete blur. He could hear movement in the apartment, someone humming Metallic. _Dean_. He pushed lightly off the twin bed again, fingers tightly gripping at the bedpost as he moved slowly to the doorway, sleep filled eyes peering down the hallway and into the living room. He scuffed his feet slowly down the corridor, hand steadying his movements against the wall. _Man, he felt like crap_.

Dean heard Sam's slow decent down the hallway, hands resting the handgun in his hands to his lap; he grinned at his kid brother. He noticed Sam looked slightly pale, as he moved slowly over to the couch and plopped down into the lumpy cushions.

"I thought you were waking me for school?" Sammy glanced at Dean as he slumped sideways on the couch. He pulled his long legs up and curled them on the seat, hands squishing between his knees; his head fell quietly to the cushions. He shivered involuntarily as the coolness of the room reached his bones.

"I was, but you had a rough night. Dad thought it best to let you stay home today." Dean eyed his brother's motions. Dean reached down and grabbed the blanket on the floor and pulled it up over Sam, resting it lightly on his shoulders. Sam grinned slightly, eyes saying 'thank you' to his brother. No words were necessary as Dean only nodded his head and returned to his work.

"I hate missing school; I am so behind on my homework." Sam mumbled, as he snuggled further down under the blanket, eyes blinking slowly as he stared at his brother.

"Sam, you're sick. It can't be helped." Dean laid serious eyes on Sam; his hands moving unconsciously through the steps of putting gun parts back in their proper order with little effort or thought.

"Where's Dad?" Sam closed his eyes, listening as gun parts clicked back together.

"He went on a small salt in burn; meeting up with Bobby. He should be back in a few days. I got my orders; make sure Sam's arm gets all healed up". Dean grinned as he finished off the gun and began to put the cleaning supplies away.

"…'kay…" Sam mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

SNSNSNSNSN

Around noon, Dean woke Sam for some lunch and more antibiotics. He removed the bandages from Sam's arm and cleaned the area; smiling at his brother as he stuck the thermometer in his ear. _No temperature. Good, good, good_.

"Fevers down…you can take a shower; I'll put some ointment on your arm and re-bandage it when you're done. You need to rest okay? After the shower, you come back in here and rest...GOT IT?" Dean's eyebrows arched up in a 'that's an order look' as he nodded his head at Sam.

"Okay, jeez…you're bossy." Sam rolled his eyes as he stood and made his way to their room, grabbing clean clothes for his shower. _Dean was such a mother sometimes._

After the shower, Sam shuffled back down the stairs and headed for the couch. He felt much better, the medication and food making it's way through his system. He returned to his position; deciding to take it easy as his brother instructed. _He really did not need to miss anymore school tomorrow_.

Sam was engrossed in the rerun of 'Happy Days'; Dean laughing heartily beside him in the chair. Suddenly, a light knock came on the front door. Sam eyed his older brother, who gave him a cockeyed shrug of his shoulders, inquiring eyes staring at the front door. Dean muted the T.V. and stood; walking toward the doorway, hand stuffing the gun in the back of his blue jeans and tugging his shirt out and over the item. He pressed his eye to the peephole and then let out a slight sigh, as he turned to grin at his little brother.

"Looks like you got company." Dean offered as he placed his fingers on the doorknob lips curled up in a wicked little smile.

Sam gave him a curious look as he pushed up to a sitting position on the couch, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. _Who would be coming to see him_?

Dean turned the doorknob slowly, body stepping to the side so Sam could see the front porch.

"Well hello there." Dean gave his best flirty grin to the pretty young girl standing on the porch, books clutched tightly in her arms across her chest. He had to admit; she was definitely a looker, long shiny hair hanging down over her shoulders, piercing blue eyes shinning up at him, large smile adorning her face.

"Hi, my names Katie, Katie Hacker; I…I was looking for Sam?" She leaned slightly, rising to the tiptoe of her shoes as she looked over Dean's shoulder and around the room behind him. Her smile became brighter when here eyes rested on Sam.

"Come in…please. Sam is right in here on the couch…resting." Dean smiled as he pointed his finger toward the couch and Sam.

Sam gave his brother a curious eye roll as he slowly wretched open the front door. He heard his brother's cocky "Well hello there." He noticed right off that Dean was using his best flirty voice; his eyes darted past his brother to the steps. He let out a slight breathe as he heard the soft voice of Katie Hacker rising to his ears. _Katie Hacker was here? Holy Crap…he looked like shit. _He ran his long fingers hastily over his overly long brown hair. His shaky hands rubbed lightly down the front of his shirt tugging out the wrinkles, then rested on his weak knees. _Katie….here, Katie is here? Breathe, just breathe. _He vaguely heard Dean invite her into the house as he turned and spoke to Sam.

"Sammy…Katie is here to see you." Dean walked two steps in front of Katie, leading the way to Sam. He gave his brother his patented wide eye look as he silently mouthed the words, "WOW SHE'S HOT."

"Hi Sam; I missed you at school today. I…I brought your homework assignments." Katie smiled brightly at Sam as she stood in front of him, swaying slowly from one foot to the other, eyes fixed on Sam.

_She missed me at school today? Did she just say she missed me at school today? _Sam lips formed a small grin up at Katie through his long bangs, fingers on his perspiring hands rubbing down his blue jean legs. There was an awkward silence as Sam struggled for something to say.

"So, Sam's glad you came by. He's feeling better, aren't you Sam?" Dean offered as he nudged her toward the couch next to Sam, hands taking the books from her fingers as he lightly pushed her down to sit right next to his brother.

"Y…Yea...Yes." Sam smiled timidly as he watched Katie take a seat next to him.

"Would you like something to drink, Katie? How bought a coke?" Dean grinned as he walked around behind Katie's back; lips mouthing again at his brother. "SAY SOMETHING SAMMY." Sam looked pleadingly up at his older brother as Dean shuffled to the kitchen. _He did not know what to say. Oh God_. He was instantly drawn back to the pretty girl on the couch next to him as he felt delicate fingers lightly touching his hand.

"You feeling better?" she whispered as she snuggled back against the old paisley cushions, eyes gleaming at Sam.

"Yes, and thank…thanks for bringing my home…homework. You didn't have to do…." Sam stuttered, the overwhelming scent of Katie's perfume lingering around him making his stomach feel funny, his thoughts confused.

"It's no biggie." Katie giggled. "You watch Happy Days? I love that show." She offered as she leaned slightly into Sam's shoulder. Sam simply nodded his head, no words able to escape his lips. _Can't breathe, can't think. Get a grip Winchester_. They both sat eyes fixed on the T.V., the sounds of their breathing the only noise in the room. _Well, this is awkward. _Sam shifted slightly as he caught Dean's eyes as he walked slowly behind Katie, returning to the room with two glasses of coke.

Sam cringed as he saw his brother purposely wink at him. He shuffled slightly on the couch as Dean leaned down and handed them both a glass. "Here you go. I'm…I'm just going to be in the kitchen." Dean stepped slowly backward, feet tracing the path he had came in on; large smile curling up on his lips. Both Katie and Sam watched him as he backed away; Katie letting out a light laugh as Dean disappeared into the kitchen. She shyly looked at Sam, who shrugged up his shoulders and gave her a slight eye roll. "My brother." They both erupted into giggles as they turned to watch the T.V., Sam turning up the volume as he relaxed into the cushions. He heaved out a light breathe of air as he felt Katie's fingers slid lightly into his large hand. _Does this mean she likes me? I think she likes me…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 6**

**The Twinkly Lights are Pretty**

Dean's wide smirk overtook his face; he leaned slightly into the doorframe, his ears straining to hear the chat his brother was having in the other room. Their current apartment was tiny, so it took little effort to ease drop. He smiled slightly; totally understanding his brother's feelings now. _Yep, Katie Hacker was a major babe_. He let out a slight exhale as he heard Sam's gentle laughter coming from the living room, intermingled with a high pitched giggle. _He just hoped this Katie did not break his kid brother's heart. A babe like that, well she could get any guy she wanted. _He grimaced slightly; knowing full well he could not save his baby brother from the clutches of young love. He stumbled slightly backwards when Sam called out his name from the other room. _Damn, caught me listening_?

"DEAN…I'm walking Katie home. She lives over on Maple Drive." Sam's voice was excited, a high pitched eager tone.

Dean eased around the corner of the door, eyes quirking up in an amusing grin at his little brother and Katie. Sam gave him a light smirk, slipping on his jacket, his finger reaching for the door. Katie nodding nonchalantly at Dean, she whispered, "Nice to meet you."

Dean's gave Sam two thumbs up, mouthing the word "Sweet" as Katie stepped by him to the door. Sam's eyes beaming at his older brother, eyebrows arching up in a 'this is awesome' look that made Dean's smile brighter.

"Okay then, it was nice to meet you Katie." Dean stood at the front door, watching his lanky brother strolling slowly down the sidewalk, eyes wide and awestruck; animated body hanging on every word that escaped Katie's lips. _Hold her hand Sam, hold her hand_. He shook his head, grinning. _Sammy, Sammy, Sammy._ _Guess just talking to her was all his brother could handle today_. He let out a slight laugh, his fingers nudging the door closed with a thud.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

The sun was slowly falling over the tree line, the sky turning a burnt auburn color as they strolled down the street toward Katie's house. The three blocks seemed to flow by swiftly as Sam leaned into Katie, eyes sparkling with every word she uttered. _She was just amazing._ He felt Katie's fingers lightly fall into his hand, his body feeling weak kneed and giddy with the motion. She tightened her hand around his, a small smile rising on her pink glossy lips. He curled his fingers lightly around her hand, butterflies flitting around in his stomach; his breathe hitching up in his chest. _Holy crap_.

The evening air grew cooler as they made their way up the sidewalk, streetlights leisurely flickering on, casting a low glow to their footsteps. Sam felt Katie's body giving out a slight shudder as the cold penetrated her light sweater; her body chilled, she moved closer to his side. He stopped, hazel eyes piercing down at her; his hands gingerly removing his jacket, folding it tightly around her dainty shoulders; tugging it beneath her chin. Katie smiled warmly up at him; warm breathe lightly touching his cheek as she whispered, "Thanks."

The final footfalls up her front porch were a blur to Sammy, his mind trying to comprehend that he was even standing next to the girl of his dreams. _She was just perfect_. Her hand poised lightly on the doorknob, he knew it was now or never; he knew he should just do it, get it over with; Dean's voice reverberated in his head. _Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her._

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Sam." Katie's blue orbs glimmered up at him, gazing intently at his face, hesitating momentarily. Sam's gaze fell down to the porch, the dirty doormat taking on a sudden appeal. He shuffled nervously on his shoes, his large feet scraping on the concrete; Dean's voice vibrated through his thoughts. _Do it Sam. Do it. _A shy smile came to his lips as he raised his head slowly to gaze through his long bangs at her face. She smiled, fingers gradually turning the doorknob, she stepped quietly inside. "Night", she whispered. Suddenly, Sam was standing on the front porch, alone, cold night air chilling his body. _Dumb-ass_. He shoved his hands into his blue jean pockets, shrugged up his shoulders, head dropping down, long bangs covering his face; he made silent steps off the porch. Dean's voice still echoed in his head_. Should have moved quicker, Dude; should have kissed her. _

Sam's icy fingers shoved further into his blue jean pockets. _It was freaking freezing out here. _He made hurried steps down the sidewalk and back toward the apartment. His mind raced over the details of the last three hours. _I can't believe it._ He shuddered, as the brisk wind howled through the trees and whipped around him. He hunched his shoulders down against the breeze; his mind engrossed in his thoughts. _She held my hand_. He was giddy, his breathe coming out in little puffs of air, her name flitting lightly off his lips. "Katie, Katie, Katie and Sam; Katie."

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean Winchester glanced up at the clock on the wall; 7:15 p.m. _Hump._ _It shouldn't take Sam an hour to walk Katie home, unless; well maybe he was getting lucky_. He laughed out loud, smart ass smirk rising on his lips. _Not a chance_. He picked up the phone to order take out, mind racing with thoughts of Sammy and Katie. _Probably didn't even kiss her; stood on the front porch, shuffling his feet and looking at the doormat. _He laughed again, the phone connecting to the pizza parlor. _Pepperoni it is._

SNSNSNSNSNSN

He didn't seem to notice the temperature drop as he stumbled along the sidewalk, body already numb from the cold; mind caught up in his thoughts. He didn't notice the ghostly figure that was following along behind him, suspended menacingly above the sidewalk; black eyes staring emptily at the back of his head. His only thoughts were far away, drifting and floating in the oblivion of first love, infatuation. _Katie_.

Suddenly, he felt it, before he saw it; a chilly grip on his shoulder. He pivoted slowly on his shoes, eyes growing wider as they focused on something that was behind him, frozen tendrils clutching tightly through his shirt, griping his shoulder bone. Fear and bewilderment overcame him. His mind registered the sight of 'Ole Bo' just as his body was lifted high in the night air, flung head first into the trees, the voice of 'Ole Bo' ringing in his ears as he slid down the bark, nothingness claiming him. "I want it back…"

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean finished off his half of the pizza, belching as he swigged down his last gulp of coke; fingers lightly rubbing across his stomach. _Where the hell is Sam? _He stood and walked to the front door; hand grasping it open with a quick tug, fingers flipping on the porch light. He gazed down the street, eyes squinting through the blackness; looking for the lanky form of his little brother in the dark. The moon had risen and cast a light glow over the ground, silence permeated through the night. He shuddered as the chill of the air racked his frame. _At least Sam had his jacket_. He shuffled backward into the room closing the door back, the heat shutting out the cold air. He flumped lazily back to the chair, fingers flipping open his cell phone. _Hate to do it Sammy, break up your little 'date', but; you SHOULD NOT KEEP BIG BROTHER WAITNG. _He scrolled down and punched the button marked Sammy; ears listening as the phone rung three times and rolled to voice mail. _Humph_. His finger hovered lightly over the button again. _Damn it Sam, pick up the freak in' phone_. He punched the button again; ringing sound penetrating his ears, sudden worry creeping up his spine.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam's forehead spiked a sharp pain as he blinked slowly. _The twinkly lights are pretty. _He breathed out a small gasp of air and watched as little puffs floated around in front of his face. _Twinkle lights and clouds….pretty_. His body shuddered and the pain spiked again through his head. _Why was he so cold? _He laid perfectly still, mind trying to comprehend what was going on. He could feel the damp ground soaking through his shirt, his jeans. _Where was his jacket?_

"Deeaannn? he whispered. _What was that ringing? Phone? His phone? Where was his phone? He couldn't remember. Where was he? Why was he so cold?_

Fear began to rise up in his mind; he turned his head to the side; eyes staring blankly at the tree trunk. He attempted to lift his head, but the spinning motion caused him to stop, don't move, perfectly still. _Ringing? Phone?_ He felt his numb hand left up off the ground and he slowly guided it to his shirt pocket. _Phone? Was that his phone? Cold, so cold. _He pulled the phone up gradually to his ear. _He recognized that voice? _

"Dededeee…" he stuttered out; voice so faint, he could hardly hear his own words; ringing in his ears growing loader. His eyes fluttered as the humming noise in his head overtook him, fingers loosing their light grasp on the cell phone, it fell to the ground. He watched as the twinkling lights spun around above him and then faded slowly back into oblivion.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean had dialed Sam's phone incessantly for the last twenty minutes, his mind was racing as thought of bad things happening to his kid brother raced through his thoughts. _Pick up, pick up the phone Sam. Where did this girl live? This Katie…think, think, think. _His fingers grabbed his car keys off the coffee table as he looked around for his coat; spying it on the floor by the coach he reached down to grab it. Suddenly, the phone clicked; ringing coming to an abrupt halt. _No voice mail this time?_ _He was pissed_.

"SAM…about time you answered the phone. What the hell man, if you wanted to have fun, at least let me know you were okay!" Dean's words tumbled out of his mouth as his irritation with his little brother rose to a peak. Nothing, empty air greeted him from the phone.

Dean stood stock still as he cocked his head to the side to listen; then he heard it, a low whisper, a mumbled word, so slight he might have missed it if he had not been hearing it his entire life.

"Dededeee…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 7**

**I Remember This**

"Damn it, Sammy answer me!" Dean's voice shouted through the cell phone, his fingers quivering as the adrenaline rushed through his body. He hurriedly made his way from their apartment to the Impala, the cold night air nipping at his skin. "SAMMY." His voice boomed through the cell phone. He tilted his head, pressing the phone as hard as possible to his ear; listening attentively, and then he vaguely heard it, a light moan, barely audible. "It's okay… Sam, SAM, I'm coming. Hang on. SAMMY?" He yelled as loud as he could, hoping his brother would hear, answer, voice some recognition, some snide remark he would welcome with a large laugh. None came…silence, and the whipping wind, the only response he received.

He continued to hold the phone pressed tightly to his ear, listening, his only lifeline to his brother. The Impala roared onto the roadway. _Okay, Okay, calm down, Winchester. Focus. What was the name of the street? Maple, yeah, Maple Drive. _He took a right on Oak Street, eyes piercing through the night air. _Walk down Oak to River Road then over to Maple Drive. Yes, that's the way Sammy would have gone to take Katie home. _He drove slowly, gazing, eyes darting out the front window, to the roadway, the front yards, the ditches_. He slowed to a stop as he heard another low moan through the phone line. "_SAM, ANWSER ME, DAMN IT".

He gave a direct order, the kind they both knew from their childhood. No response from his brother, only the wind thrashing into Dean's ear. He took the next left on River Road, car moving all of 5 mph, he continued his search.

The cell phone connection, his lifeline to his brother, suddenly went dead. "SAM." He yelled, anger welling up in his chest in a tight knot, latent with the fear that was thumping loudly with each heartbeat. _Calm down, got to find Sammy_. He slung the phone to the floorboard, hand swiftly rolling down the window; he looked closely out the side of the car, to the yards, the bushes. The cold night air was making frozen clouds with his breath, fog rising in front of his face. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. _Where the hell was Sam? _Suddenly, his eyes settled on something out of ordinary, lying in a lump below a large Oak tree, hardly visible, far away from the sidewalk.

"Oh God…" He slammed the brake down with sudden force that shook the car, as he flung open the door; his feet stumbled swiftly to the cold dirt and toward the wayward sight.

His heart raced, hastily making the connection, confirmation that this was indeed Sammy. His eyes roved down his brother's lanky frame settling on the dead cell phone that was clutched tightly in Sam's fingers. He swiftly removed his leather jacket and placed it across his shivering form. _Where the hell was his jacket_? He placed a hand on Sam's face, cupping his cheek and chin in his fingers. _Jesus, he was freezing_. _Damn it, I'm sitting around eating pizza and Sam's out here freezing to death. Damn it._

"Sammy. Can you hear me?" He gently patted Sam's check, watching as his brother leaned his face into his warm fingers, eyes attempting to tug their way open. Lashes fluttered and lethargic eyes looked up at Dean, blinking slowly as if attempting to focus. His mind blurred as the sudden need to take care of his kid brother overcome him, memories of many other times, situations like this, when Dad was in charge rushing to his thoughts. _Keep calm._ M_ake sure there's no serious injury. Get him off ground, out of the elements._

"Hey Sammy." Dean's voice gentle and steady, he forced his fear and anxiety down with one large gulp. "What you get yourself into?" He gave his brother a slight cocky grin as Sam's eyes flooded with recognition and blinked lethargically.

"De...e...de...an." Sam's voice stuttered out as his body shuddered uncontrollably.

"I'm hear, Sammy. It's okay. I found you." Dean placed his fingers against Sam's neck, feeling a heartbeat that was strong, but erratic. Still, it brought Dean's fear down a notch lower as he regained control of his senses, instinctive hunter's reaction coming quicker now. "Sam, is anything hurting?" He gripped Sam's chin tightly, turning his unfocused face to look him in the eye. Sam blinked slowly as he looked up at Dean through his long hair.

"Head h...hurts. C…C...cold." Sam whispered as he shivered uncontrollably. Dean reached down and moved Sam's bangs from his face, so he could see his eyes more clearly. Sam flinched from his fingers. Dean gazed at the dark red and black bruise mark that were now making a lumpy appearance on his brother's forehead, just beneath his hairline.

"Yea, you got quite a bump coming up there. Let's get you off the ground, get you warmed up."

Dean curled one arm under his little brother. "Come on, up you go." He whispered into Sam's ear as he tugged Sam up to a sitting position on the cold ground. Sam tried to hold himself up on his weak limbs, but slumped back into his brother's arm. A small whimper came from his parted lips, eyes blinking slowly.

"I'm here Sammy." Dean's strong arm rested around Sam's back, his other hand clutched his arm; pulling him close, as Sam rose slowly to his feet.

"Di' z...zee." he whispered. His legs felt like rubber as he struggled to hold up his own body weight, slumping weakly into his brother. Sam swayed, looking to Dean with a confused stare and then glanced around. His body shivered at the chill in the air. The older sibling noted the dullness in Sam's eyes, his lack of awareness and focus. "Dean?"

"Right here, Sam." He pulled Sam closer.

"B...Bo." Sam's head lulled into Dean's shoulders as the eldest attempted to understand what his brother was saying. Dean took the added weight to himself with little effort, eyes fixed on Sam's face.

"Ole Bo? You saying Ole Bo did this to you?" Dean moved with a slow steady pace toward the drivers door of the Impala; dragging Sam along with him.

Sam's head flung around limply on his neck as Dean sat him down in the passenger seat. Pulling his long legs in, resting them on the floorboard, he secured him with his seatbelt.

"Sam, look at me. Stay awake." A hand gripped Sam's shoulder, a firm tone assaulted his ears, an order; he blinked open his lids to half mast, staring at Dean.

"…'Kay… Sam closed his eyes as the vertigo assaulted him. He heard the trunk open and then felt blankets being tucked around him, they did not seem to be helping, and he felt his body shaking harshly as Dean closed the door with a thud.

"Let me get the heat cranked up." He heard a worried tone rising up in Dean's voice. _What's Dean so worried about? _He felt Dean's hand on the back of his neck, his thumb rubbing lightly, up and down beneath his hair. He curled in on himself in the passenger seat, facing his brother, head slumping into the seat, body trembling. _He knew this, he remembered it. _A small smile curled up on his lips, as he looked across at his older brother, his eyes slowly blinking, then, closing, he drifted into nothingness.

SNSNSNSNSN

Warmth across his features caused his eyes to flutter with the motion. He blinked and looked owlishly up at his brother. Dean's fingers clutching a compress, his eyes anxious, but his lips curling up in a slight smile as he looked into Sammy's eyes. He continued to drag the warm cloth across his brother's forehead, pushing his long bangs back and away from his face.

"Dean." Sam whispered and nuzzled instinctively down into the warmness of the numerous blankets hovering on top of him, the chill in his bones ebbing away.

"Sam, You gonna wake up now?" Dean's eyes glimmered down at Sam, his tone goading him to wake up, talk to him.

"Yea, yea…where…where are we?" Sam's mouth felt dry and cottony, his head throbbing right between his eyes. He blinked slowly, his vision still hazy, his eyes feeling gritty with sleep.

Dean laid the warm compress on the table, snatching up the Tylenol bottle, he dumped three pills from the bottle; nudging them at Sam's hand. "We are back in the apartment; I brought you in…remember?"

Sam slowly shook his head as he grasped his quivering fingers around the Tylenol. Dean nodded; he placed his hand under Sam's unruly hair and helped him to raise his head, pushing the water bottle to his lips.

"I don't re...member…" Sam hesitated as he tried to clear confused thoughts, lips gulping down the pills with the damp water that eased his cotton mouth.

"What do you remember Sammy? What happened?" Dean sat the bottle back to the table and leaned in to look at Sam's face, waiting for answers to all the questions his mind was racing to figure out. _What happened? Who hurt his brother? They were going to regret it, that's for sure. _

Sam pushed his weak arms against the couch cushions, swinging his feet to the floor, taking the blankets with him. The color leaving his face as the room wildly spun around him.

"Whoa, hang on their Sammy." Dean grasped his arms and pushed him lightly back to the couch. "You almost had hypothermia, and I think you have a slight concussion." Sam slumped back down, eyes twisting shut as Dean's hands tucked the blankets back around his body.

"Deeaaan, I'm not a baby." Sam whined as he leered up at his older brother.

"Well, get over it. You are staying right there for now." Dean's tone raised two octaves and Sam knew the battle was over before it began. He sagged back against the cushions. "Now, tell me what happened."

"I was walking back from Katie's; did you like her?" He turned his head to look at Dean, a goofy smile on his lips.

"Yea, I liked her; she's too hot for you little bro ….too Hot." Dean lips arched up in a grin, eyes radiating across at Sam.

"Humph." Sam offered. "Like I said, I was walking home, and then Bo appeared out of no where and knocked me to the ground."

"You leave your coat at Katie's?" Dean gave him a quizzical look.

"Yea, yea. She was cold; I gave it to her and forgot to get it back." Sam blushed lightly.

"Bet you didn't get a kiss, did ya?" Dean studied his baby brother's face closely; giving him a sheepish grin.

"Whatever dude." Sam rolled his eyes.

"So Bo showed up again. How is that possible? We burned his bones." Dean's face looked concerned as his mind revisited the burning of 'Ole Bo' last week. _I know we burned that dudes bones. "_I just don't get it." He sighed as he looked at his younger brother. Sam's eyes were half mast as he was attempted to stay awake.

"I don...don't either." Sam whispered as his eyes slowly closed. Dean watched as his breathing began to even out, his body succumbing to tiredness. Dean eased back into the chair, eyes watching his brother fall into sleep.

Suddenly, Sam's eyes flew wide open, his breath coming out in little pants, shocking Dean into sudden awareness. _What the hell, he just went to sleep; can't be a nightmare already_. Dean sat up straight and reached out, grasping Sam's arms tightly, forcing him to stay on the couch.

"No, oh God…No." Sam began to struggle to get up off the couch harder, blankets tumbling to the floor. "Dean, the locket…the locket. I took the locket." Words tumbled in a mass of confusion from Sam's lips; he struggled against his brother's grasp, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Sam, calm down. Sam, look at me. Calm down." Dean held firmly as his brother slowly wilted beneath him, a shaky mass of gangly limbs; tears rising to his eyelids.

"What Sam. What is it?" Dean's loosened his grip as he saw Sam's face go from stunned to fearful in one brief moment. _What the hell?_

Sam struggled to get the words out, heart thudding in his chest. _Dad will be pissed, Dean will be pissed, and Katie…oh my God, Katie. _"I took…took a locket. I took it from Ole Bo's hand."

"What? You did what?" Dean hands fell lax to Sam's blankets as he looked intently at this brother's face.

"I…I took a loc..locket from Ole Bo's grave. It was in his hand. I saw, I saw it, was looking at it, then Dad yelled at me. I took it, I remember now. I stuck it in my coat pocket. Oh God Dean, Katie, Katie has the jacket." Sam's body shivered with the words, cold gripping tightly at his spine and curling up his back.

Dean watched as his brothers face drained of all color, his eyes growing larger with each word. Panic gripped at Sammy's features as he clutched at Dean's shirt, clumping the fabric into a tight knot beneath his shaky fingers. "Dean…Oh God", he whispered again, his chest taut, as he struggled to take in air, "Katie."


	8. Chapter 8

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

Note from Author: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing this story.

**Chapter 8**

**Dean Would Fix It**

Dean's voice vibrated into the cell phone clutched tightly to his ear_. Pick up the phone, Dad, pick up._ He glanced back at his little brother, sitting hazy eyed on the couch, fingers clenching and unclenching the blanket in his lap. It was just after midnight, the events of the last six hours taking a toll on both brothers. Sam was a jumbled mess of panic, mixed with exhaustion. Dean was a wreck, after searching for Sam earlier, finding him, half frozen, on the side of the road with a surefire concussion. He was concerned about what Sam had been through earlier, and what he was going through right now. He dragged in a deep sigh as he clutched the cell phone closer. _Got too keep my 'game face' on_. He was stunned; his brother had found and kept something when they burned "Ole Bo". _What was Sam thinking? _John Winchester's voice echoed through Dean's head. _"Never take anything from a hunt. Spirits can attach to sentimental objects" _Dean pulled his fingers through his short hair, sighing as he tilted his head away from Sam and grimaced. _His Dad would be so pissed._

"You've reached John Winchester. Leave a message and I'll call you back." Dean exhaled. "Dad, its Dean…We are fine. But, we got a problem. Call me." He shut the cell phone with a click, eyes gazing back to Sammy. He shuffled on his feet, his eyes squinting down a worried look at his kid brother. Sam's face had no color, his body swaying slightly as he sat on the ugly couch, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying to control.

"Dean, I messed up……I forgot. I was going to toss it into the fire, but I forgot. How could I forget; I am so stupid, just like Dad says. I…I was so wrapped up in….." Sam's voice stuttered and then trailed off, a low tone that was barely audible. His mind a flood of memories, digging up 'Ole Bo', finding the locket, stuffing it in his coat, his Dad yelling at him, then finally, the screaming sounds of 'Ole Bo' as he was attacked and subsequently injured. Everything that night was a blur. His body gave a slight shudder as his fingers wretched the blanket in his lap tensely, his chest contracting as fear seeped into his bones. He felt overwhelmed with concern for Katie; what if she got hurt? It would be his fault. Everything was his fault. His chest struggled to pull in air as black spots danced in his vision.

Its okay Sammy….we'll fix it. I promise." Dean sat down beside his brother and pulled him into a slight hug, hand resting on the back of Sam's neck, fingers locked into his long hair, thumb rubbing gently up the back of his neck. "It's okay, just breathe kiddo."

Sam felt his brother's hand, grounding him; pulling him back from the panic, the anxiety, which threatened to overtake him. Trusting, wide eyes rolled up to Dean's face_. Dean would fix it, Dean fixed everything. _

"Stupid." Sam mumbled; his head dropping slowly down to his chest.

"No Sam, you may be a daydreaming teenager, but you're not stupid." Dean assured.

"Da…Dad will think so..so." Sam whispered tone assuming and low.

"Don't worry about Dad. Let's just be concerned about you and that locket. Okay?"

Sam's head nodded slowly as he peered up at Dean, hair failing across his large owlish eyes. "So, what do we do?"

"Well, we got to get that locket back. You think it is still in your jacket pocket?" Dean gave Sam a quizzical gaze as his hand moved to the center of Sam's back; firm and reassuring.

"But, it's middle of the night. We can't go there now." Sam kept his eyes gazing at his brother, tension arching up in his eyebrows.

The ringing of the cell phone made them both heave in desperate breathes; Sam's eyes darting to the phone and back to Dean. He knew Dad would be pissed. Dean sighed; he knew he would need to stay in control here, calm his Dad down.

"Dad?" Dean's voice was steady as he patted Sam on the back, hand never leaving his brother.

"Dean, I just got back from the hunt with Bobby; phone was not in range. What the hell is going on?" John's voice was gruff and strong.

"Sam was attacked tonight by 'Ole Bo'." Dean spouted out. _Might as well get it over with quick._

"You're brother okay?" John's voice was confused, and full of concern.

"He's fine, got a bump on the head." Dean smirked at his little brother, hand still firmly planted on his back.

John sighed, "What the hell, 'Ole Bo'? We burned the bones."

"Samfoundsomethingandstuckitinhispocket." Dean blurted out, words in one big exhale of air.

"WHAT? Did you just say Sam stuck something in his pocket? What the HELL, SAM knows better. Put him on the phone." The anger was grave in John Winchester's voice.

Dean shuffled to his feet, hand dropping away from Sam; he stood, pacing in front of his brother. He grimaced, face contorted up in an pissed off look, he held the phone tighter to his ear. "Dad, he found a necklace, he stuck it in his pocket. He was going to drop it in the flames and then we got attacked by "Ole Bo". Remember? He got hurt, he forgot about it in the confusion."

"I cannot believe this shit. Where is your brothers head at Dean, this is bad." John's voice boomed through the headset. Dean could hear Bobby in the background attempting to calm his Dad down.

Dean cast his tired eyes down to his brother, and heaved out air as his hand reached out and patted Sam on the leg. "Okay Dad, we got that he screwed up, we got it. What we don't have is what to do about it." Dean offered up in a flat, pissed off tone.

A large gasp of air blew through the phone causing the hair to stand on the back of Dean's neck. He waited, on bated breathe, as his father talked to Bobby and seemed to be attempting to collect himself. He heard Bobby's questions, and his father's curt answers. Bobby's voice was garbled in the background as Dean listened to his Dad's heavy breathing. He cast his steel gaze down to his brother, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Okay", John spoke quietly, voice on a forced even note, sounding almost without emotion. "You need to get it back; the spirit will not rest until we get rid of the object."

"I know, but it's in Sam's coat, and his coat is at one of his friend's house. It's late Dad; we can't just march over and get it?"

"Yes, you CAN." John's tone of voice rose again.

Dean heard the phone shuffle, his father's voice now away from the phone. "It's my boy, Sammy, damn it; I cannot believe this." Dean could hear Bobby, a firm, composed tone on the other end, "Calm down John, Sammy will be fine. Give me the phone."

"Dean, it's Bobby. Where is the object?" he queried.

"I told Dad, it's in Sam's jacket."

"Well go get it, Dean. Get it and burn it." Bobby stated irritation in his words.

"We can't, his jacket is not here. He loaned it…loaned it, to a…a girl; okay." Dean huffed out, exasperated that he had to divulge the information to Bobby. He knew Bobby would tell his Dad, making it worse on his little brother.

"Ummmm, okay then." Bobby sounded intrigued. "Listen Dean, the ghost is after Samuel for taking it, not whoever has it now. It will be after Sam because he took it."

"Are you sure?" Dean said with concern in his voice. "We don't want anything to happen to the girl." He gave a reassuring smile to his brother. Sam's eyes watching his every move.

"Yea, I'm sure. Get it tomorrow; get the object, burn it." Bobby voiced as the phone was yanked from his fingers.

"Dean. Look Out For Your Brother." John's voice calm, firm and back in control.

"We are on our way back, but, it will be tomorrow evening before we get there."

"I will, Dad. I will." Dean nodded his head as the phone line went dead. Blowing out a large breathe, he looked at Sam. His brother was curled into himself, eyes cast down, fingers fumbling with the threads of the quilt across his lap. Dean wasn't sure what Sam was thinking, but he knew it was a combination of guilt about 'Ole Bo' and fear of his Dad's disappointment with him.

"Okay Sammy, we'll get a few hours of sleep. You go to school, get the jacket from Katie and we burn the damn locket."

"…'Kay." Sam's voice was a mere whisper. He blinked up at his older brother as he pulled himself up. He swayed slightly; Dean grabbing his elbow in a firm grasp, keeping him from tumbling to the floor.

"I gotcha, sit down, before you fall down." Dean shoved Sammy back toward the couch, and pulled his legs up on the cushions. "You're not getting out of my sight. Just go to sleep Sammy, go to sleep."

"But, Katie…" Sam mumbled as Dean pulled the blanket back up to Sam's neck, tucking it around his exhausted brother.

"Shhh, Sammy, Katie's fine. It's you I'm worried about, it's you 'Ole Bo' is after."

"You surrrrr?" Sam's eyes blinked slowly as he gazed up at Dean.

"I'm sure Sam. You just need to get some rest; you have had a very traumatic evening. Just rest, okay."

Dean flipped off the light as he reached for his salt gun. He checked the rounds as he sat slowly down to the chair. His eyes focused on Sammy as he glared into the darkened room; he watched as Sam's lashes fluttered, eyes slowly closing shut.


	9. Chapter 9

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

Note from Author: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing this story.

**Chapter 9**

**Should Have**

Dean shuddered slightly to wakefulness, the phone alarm ringing, piercing through his tired mind. His eyes flew open with sudden awareness as they darted around the room. His fingers grabbed up the cell phone and hastily flipped the alarm off. He stood on tired legs and stretched his arms up over his head, releasing the tension from the few hours of sleep. He had snatched maybe two hours of slumber and it had done little for him, his eyes feeling gritty, and bloodshot. He had spent most of the night propped up in the lumpy living room chair, clutching his salt gun, watching out for 'Ole Bo'. His eyes fixed on his kid brother, lying beneath the blankets on the old worn couch.

The phone alarm had not woken Sam, his breathe coming out in low even tones. He was pale, a large bruise decorating his forehead, a direct result of the previous evenings encounter with a ghost. _He looks so young_. Dean reached a gentle hand down to Sam's forehead and brushed his long bangs away from his face, looking intently at the large knot above his left eyebrow. _If the kid was awake, he would not allow me to do this._ He grinned, as he continued pulling his fingers through Sam's long bangs, a comforting motion he had done since his brother was small. Now though, Sam was fifteen, a teenager, this soothing action was strictly forbidden. _He needs a haircut_. Sam unconsciously leaned his head into Dean's hand, causing the eldest brother's lips to curl up in a small smile. _Guess he still remembers._ Dean shook his head, pushing back the memories of Sam's youth; knowing it was time for Sam to get up, finding Sam's jacket, and burning the locket was imperative. He moved his hand down to rest flat on Sam's chest and gave him a slight shake.

"Sammy, hey kiddo, it's time to wake up." Dean's tone was low and commanding, a direct result of years of their Dad's military training. Sam's body responded to the tone, he began sluggishly moving on the couch, dark lashes fluttering slowly open to reveal un focused, confused eyes peering up at Dean.

Sam blinked gradually, fingers gripping, then suddenly twisting, the blanket on his chest. His head jerked up from the pillow, elbows feebly pushing at the cushions beneath him, his pupils intense and wild as he gaped at his older brother. "Katie…" he whispered, the lone word hurriedly coming from his lips.

Dean's hand stayed firmly planted on his chest, patting in a comforting motion. "It's okay Sammy…its okay. Just breath, we will take care of this. I promise."

Sam felt Dean's strong hand ground him; pulling him back from the fear and panic. He heard Dean's steady voice calming the emotions that threatened to roll over him like a tidal wave. He nodded his head slowly at his brother, pushing with weak arms, the blankets falling to the floor. He swung his feet to the carpet. He stood, swaying slightly, Dean's fingers moving to grip him on the arm, to steady him.

"Hey, careful, you got a hard bump on the head there, Sammy." Dean's grip tightened slightly as his brother struggled to gain his equilibrium.

"I got it…" Sam mumbled, locking his knees in an attempt to hold himself steady. His head was pounding, vision wavering as he fought for control of his senses.

"Sam, you sure you're up for this? I can go…" Sam abruptly cut Dean's words off and pushed away from his grip.

"No".

Dean watched his brother with concern etched across his face as Sam put his Winchester mask back into place. _Hard headed little twerp_. Dean sighed and pulled his hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Sam.

"I have to do it. I have to fix my mess. Dad…." Sam's voice wavered, he mumbled, "Just get me to school." He then took slow, steady, steps toward the bedroom he shared with his brother, slamming the door shut behind him.

ooooooooooo

The drive to John Davis High School was a quiet one, Dean's eyes fleeting every few minutes from the road to his kid brother. Sam sat slumped in the passenger's seat, weary eyes gazing out the side window, large lump on his head strategically hidden behind his long bangs. Dean was sure his brother had a concussion after his meeting with the tree last evening, let alone the after affects of his battle with the cold night air. Sam was incessant though; he would get his jacket back from Katie, and take care of 'Ole Bo' once and for all. Dean knew Sam felt guilty for taking the locket and stuffing it into his pocket at the grave sight. He knew Sam only forgot about it because he had gotten hurt that night. He also knew his Dad was going to bitch Sam out for it, thus making the need to fix his own mess a priority in Sam's mind. The problem was, Dean did not think Sam was in the best shape to be doing any of this; hell, less than twelve hours ago he was tossed into a tree.

"Hey Sam, why don't I just go into school, go to the office, tell them you're sick. I can have them get Katie to bring your coat to the office". Dean gave his brother a hopeful grin from the driver's seat, fingers lightly tapping the steering wheel.

"No, Dean. I have to fix this, I have to." Sam's body let out a slight shudder. Dean gave him apprehensive eyes as he pulled the car into the school parking lot pushing it into park.

"Okay, but I'm only giving you first period, that's till 8:15. You find her, get the coat and get your ass back out here. I'll be right here waiting."

Sam nodded his head as his fingers lurched open the Impala door. He pulled Dean's blue jean jacket up tighter around his neck as the cold air assaulted his weary body. He trudged slowly toward the school, eyes glancing around looking for Katie through the crowd.

Dean watched from the car as his brother made slow steps through the mass of teenagers. He knew Sam would have to go inside and probably to class to find Katie, he only hoped she had brought the jacket, with the locket to school. His anxious fingers set poised on the steering wheel, taping out the beat to the Aerosmith tape playing in the car. "Walk this Way" blaring as he nervously hummed it to himself.

Sam pushed his way through the throng of kids headed into the school, eyes ever vigilant. Normally, he would pass Katie in the hallway before school, close to his locker. He would just go that way, and hopefully, he would find her. He let out a slight moan as someone bumped him and his vision blurred for a moment. He pulled in some air and pushed on, oblivious to the noises of his classmates.

oooooooooooooooo

Katie Hacker clutched the beige jacket tightly in her fingers as she walked down the hallway to her first period class, a smile curled up on her pink glossy lips. She could not believe that Sam had forgotten it the night before; she had forgotten it too, until she had seen it in her bedroom mirror. The memory of Sam placing it gently around her shoulders made a small shudder go up her spine, her smile growing wider with the thought. She had immediately run to the front door, hoping to give the jacket back to him; but, he had already disappeared into the darkness. So today, her first priority, get the coat back to Sam Winchester. It was cold outside, she was sure he needed it.

She walked quickly into her classroom, eyes roaming for the tall lanky Sam, hoping he had gotten to class early, so they could talk. The seat he normally sat in was empty; she shrugged in disappointment and walked toward her own chair. Suddenly, Scott Walker, high school quarterback, and resident jerk, was standing right in front of Katie's path to her seat.

"Hi, Scott." Katie rolled her eyes as she attempted to hedge around Scott and half the football team.

"Whatcha got there Katie? Is that Winchester's jacket? It looks like Winchesters old worn out jacket to me." He taunted, his fingers grabbing the jacket from Katie's clutched fingers yanking it from her hand. "He sure needs a new one, but you know I have always liked the way this one looks, old and worn out." He shoved his hands into the jacket, putting it on and then modeling it for all his friends, loud cackles rolling off their lips...

"Give me back the jacket." Katie huffed as she lunged for Scott. "Take it off." She stammered. Everyone laughed as Scott veered out of the path of Katie's fingers. "You're an ass, Scott Walker." The laughter rolled off Scott and his five buddies with a roar.

Katie plopped to her chair, crossed her arms, abruptly turning her head, eyes fixed on the front of the room and away from Scott and his friends. Scott snickered and sat with a thud in his own chair, fingers lightly thumbing over the tattered beige jacket he was wearing.

The bell was chiming when Sam Winchester made his way into his first period class, eyes catching sight of Katie as he did so; he shuffled to his seat, and shimmed his long legs into the desk. His eyes rested attentively on the back of Katie head. _Her hair was so pretty. _

"Hey Katie." He grinned bashfully with his words. She did not glance back at him, but kept her blue eyes glued to the front of the room, breathe coming out in little huffs of air. He heard the muffled laughter behind him, but gave it no mind, Katie was the center of his attention. _Why wasn't she answering him_? _She looks pissed off. Did I do something_? Sam leaned back in his seat, forehead resting on his fisted hand. _Think Winchester, think._ The back of Katie's head faded in and out in front of him as he rubbed his temple to focus his vision. _What was he supposed to do?_ He rubbed his forehead, the headache throbbing just beneath the surface. _Oh yeah, jacket, get the jacket_. He looked at Katie again, no jacket hanging on the chair, no jacket in her lap. _Hum, maybe she left it at home._

"Hey Katie", he whispered as he leaned forward, taping his finger on her shoulder. "Did you bring my jacket?" Katie's head whipped around quickly, eyes flashing a steel blue color, anger rosy in her cheeks. _Holy crap, she's really mad about something_. Sam blinked hard, attempting to clear his bleary vision. He heard laugher coming from behind him, and he attempted to stay focused on Katie, ignoring the chuckles from the rear of the room.

"Scott took it." Katie blurted out angrily, eyes flashing at Sam; she huffed loudly and turned back around in her seat. The sounds of loud amusement and giggles rang out in the room around Sam; he squinted at Katie as his hazy thoughts attempted to comprehend what she had said. _Scott took it, Scott who? Someone took my jacket? Someone's got the locket? _

"Hey Winchester, like my new jacket…. Vintage thrift store…big brother hand me down. Like it, I think its right up your geeky alley." Scott grinned, nodding his head toward Sam, snarky look on his face. Everyone turned to watch Sam, snickers permeating the air.

Sam wrenched his head around to stare at Scott Walker. The movement making his vision blur, the room spinning slightly. He squinted to see Scott sitting two seats back and over, hands clutched cockily on the lapel of his coat. _What the hell?_ Sweat beaded up on Sam's forehead as he tried to concentrate on what he needed to doHis head was pounding and his ears were ringing as he suddenly felt nauseous. He glared intently at Scot, blinking his eyes in confusion.

"Sam Winchester, you need to turn around and quit talking." The perky teacher's voice rang out through the room. Sam took one last look at Scott, as he swallowed hard to squelch his queasy stomach, blurry eyes falling once again to the back of Katie Hackers head. _ I should've let Dean do this_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 10**

**Head in the Clouds**

Scott Walker grinned at his buddies, eyes darting up and over to Sam Winchester. He nodded his head, everyone snickering as the teacher reprimanded Sam for disrupting the class. _What a dork_. Scott lightly fingered the tattered jacket; he really did not care for it at all. It certainly did not meet with his standards, it was actually worn out, definitely a hand me down. He glanced from Sam to Katie. He really hated this new guy, this Winchester. _Who was he anyway?_ _What made him so damn special_?

Katie Hacker was furious with Scott. _Now she remembered why she did not date him anymore; he was a big jerk_. She pulled her long dark hair around her shoulders and twirled it between her fingers. She was embarrassed that Scott got Sam's jacket, and put it on. She knew everyone was laughing at her, at Sam, and that really pissed her off. Sam was a nice guy; he did not deserve everyone making fun of him because he did not have a lot of money, because his brother brought him to school, because he did not wear the best clothes, because he ate lunch by himself everyday. She huffed, and looked straight ahead, daring not to look at Sam, not wanting to give them anything else to taunt him with. _What had she seen in Scott Walker?_

Sam's mind was hazy, confused, a whirl of thoughts, questions, and doubts. He needed to get his jacket. _Why did Scott have his jacket again? What was up with Katie? _ He kneaded his thumb and forefinger on his fuzzy eyelids, his head hurt. He was so tired, he needed to think clearer. _Focus. _ He stared at the clock on the wall, listening as the teacher droned on an on about nothing. It was 8:05; Dean would be coming in after him if he did not get back outside. _Boy that would be really embarrassing. _He glared around at Scott, who only gave him a cocky grin as he nuzzled down further in the seat, fingers lightly rubbing down the front of the jacket. _Okay, time for a new plan. _He raised his trembling hand up. _Why was his hand shaking_?

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?" The teacher rolled her eyes slightly as she gazed intently at him.

"I need to go to the bathroom." His foot tapped impatiently on the floor, waiting for permission to exit the room. The perspiration beading up on his upper lip as he swiped it away with his sleeve.

"Are you okay? Are you sick?" The teacher gave him a curious look. _He seems a little pale._ The entire class turned to look at Sam.

"I'm fine." Sam's eyes darted to the floor, hiding his face behind his long bangs, a slight ringing humming inside his head.

"Okay then, whatever." She motioned slightly with her hand as she nodded her head slowly, and continued with the lesson.

Sam gazed bashfully at Katie through his bangs, she was looking at him, chin hiding slightly behind her long hair, smile curled up on her lips. _Maybe she's not mad. _He stood slowly, fingers grasping tightly around the desk as his knees buckled slightly, black dots dancing in his vision. He blinked hastily several times. Katie's eyes flashed a bright blue as she refrained from reaching out to steady him.

"Dude is such a dork, he can't even stand up." Scott whispered behind him, as the classroom giggled in response.

Sam took a steadying breathe, ignoring the comment and the laughter that was welling up around him, his heart was thudding loudly, his head humming, and the room seem to be spinning around in front of him.

"Class, be quiet." The teacher's voice was a shrill command. Silence fell over the room.

Sam pushed off the chair and walked slowly toward the door, away from all the eyes that were still peering at him, the scrutiny that made him so uncomfortable. Once he was out their view, and safely to the hallway, he let out a little moan and placed the palm of his hand on the wall, his head hanging limply toward his chest, breathe coming out in little pants of air. He stumbled, hand applying pressure to the bricks for support, as he made his way toward the front doors. _Dean would be so pissed at him for not having the jacket, the locket. _He pushed the glass entrance open as he stared out toward the Impala, the unclear form of his brother sitting in the front seat. He felt the bile rising up in his throat and he swallowed convulsively, attempting to squelch the nausea. He heard his feet thudding loudly on the solid walkway, his head pounding, the buzzing noise ringing louder in his ears. Get _to Dean, just get to Dean_.

Dean's fingers patted lightly on the steering wheel, as he waited, watched for his brother to come out of the school. It was 8:10. _Sam had five more minutes. He really didn't want him coming in after his ass. _ He flipped off the music, nervously letting his eyes dart around from the front door to the side door, then back to the front. All of a sudden the metal door flung open and Sam lurched out. _What no jacket, what the hell_? His eyebrows rose up as he gave a defiant stare to his kid brother. _Jeez,_ g_o in, get the jacket; how hard was that?_ His angry glower quickly turned to concern as he swiftly wretched open the driver's door, running at a fast pace toward his brother. _Shit_. Sam's long legs seemed to be buckling out from under him, his body swaying as his head lolled around on his neck. Dean rushed up the sidewalk, fingers reaching out to grab a hold of his blue jean jacket, just as the kid stumbled forward toward the cement sidewalk.

"Sam…" Dean's voice alarmed, he pulled at Sam's arms, his little brother's body leaning overwhelmingly into him.

"Deee...nn." Sam whispered in a low slur, his eyes blinking slowly as he felt his brothers tight grasp, stopping the spinning, grounding him.

"I gotcha, com're." Dean reached around his brother's waist, grabbing a hold of his belt loop, steadying him. Tugging Sam's arm around his own neck, he led him toward the Impala. Sam's feet stumbling uncoordinatedly along on the concrete. He held him securely as he opened the passenger door, noticing Sam's pale color, lack of coherence. He eased him gently into the passenger seat, leaning down to look curiously in his face.

"Hey, look at me. Sammy." Dean gripped him tightly on the shoulder, giving him a slight shake. Sam's eyes sluggishly opened, gazing at his brother's face.

"You okay?" Dean's eyes squinted at Sam, distress etched in his features.

"Personal space, dude." Sam mumbled, pushing Dean away with his shaky fingers. Dean's tension waned, and he gave his brother a slight smirk. He pulled Sam's legs up at the knees, positioning them on the floorboard. "I couldn't get the jacket", Sam sighed.

"Yeah, I figured." Dean pushed the door closed and stepped quickly to the driver's side, eyes never leaving from his brother.

"Head's not as hard as you thought there, huh kiddo?" Dean grinned as he patted Sam on the kneecap.

Sam would have nodded, but his stomach was far too queasy to attempt to move at all. Just sitting in the Impala, with his brother, made him relax and feel more in control. He took a long breathe and gradually released it, swallowing slowly, willing himself not to be sick.

"Why couldn't you get the jacket?" Dean thrust a bottle of water at Sam's hand as he looked inquisitively at him. "Drink slow."

"Scott Walker took it away from Katie." Sam spoke softly, sipping a small gulp from the bottle; he dropped it to his lap. His fingers reached up to brush at the aching lump on his forehead.

"Don't do that." Dean's hand clutched Sam's fingers, pulling them away from his face. "Who the hell is Scott Walker?"

Sam leaned back against the bench seat, a low hiss escaping from his lips. "He's the quarterback of the football team, and Katie's ex-boyfriend."

"Umhum" Dean gazed at Sam, his mind quickly putting together the pieces of the puzzle. "Well, the little jerk is giving me back that jacket."

They sat silently in the Impala for a few minutes; Sam attempting to collect himself, head resting on the back of the seat, sipping lightly at the water bottle. Dean watched as some color came back into Sammy's face. His own mind racing, he attempted to come up with a new plan, to get back the jacket, to burn that damn locket.

"You need some aspirin?" Dean removed a bottle from the glove box and dumped two pills in his hand, nudging lightly at Sam's shoulder.

Sam opened his bleary eyes and groped for Deans hand. He swallowed the pills quickly and held the cool bottle to his throbbing forehead. "Okay, so what are we going to do?" Sam's voice was low and shaky.

"Well, I could just go in there, in full Winchester fashion, and get the damn thing." Dean offered with a sloppy grin.

"Dude, so not a good idea; they would think you were a terrorist if you went in there." Sam gave Dean an eye roll.

"Okay then, we just wait right here till this Scott dude comes out of the school, follow him and nab the jacket."

"He's a senior. He normally goes out of the building for lunch, that's around 11:00." Sam shimmed lower in the seat, arms crossing his chest, eyes falling over toward Dean.

"Crap." Dean huffed. "I was sitting out here an hour and half already, two more hours? Let's go get some coffee." The Impala roared to life as Dean pulled away from the curb. He glanced over at Sam as his eyes fluttered closed, breathe evening out, sleep claiming his little brother.

ooooooooooo

Dean eyes were transfixed on the front doors of John Davis High School, coffee perched precariously in one hand, free fingers tapping on the steering wheel. His eyes veered over to Sam, who was still sleeping in the front seat. At the first sign of any students emerging from the school, he would need to wake his brother; till then, he could sleep. He felt his cell phone vibrate and hastily grabbed it out of his pocket.

"You got Dean." His voice was almost a whisper as he attempted not to wake his little brother. _The kids' had a rough time of it. _

"DEAN…" A loud voice boomed through the phone, "Have you got the DAMN LOCKET and BURNED it? I TOLD you to keep me INFORMED." John Winchester's tone was very direct, emphasizing the critical words as he spoke.

"No Sir", Deans muffled voice barely making it through the phone.

"Why the hell you whispering?" John huffed out in one long breathe.

"Sammy's sleeping." Dean offered, sitting his coffee to the dashboard and pushing open the car door, eyes ever watchful on his resting brother.

"What? Why the hell is Sammy sleeping in the middle of the damn day? You got a locket to burn. What the hell is wrong with your brother anyway, taking that damn locket?"

Dean paced slowly by the Impala driver's door. _Here we go again. His Dad was really starting to piss him off. _"Look Dad, we got it under control, okay. We are about to get the jacket and locket back."

"Well you better be. Damn Sam, head lost in the freaking clouds all the damn time." John's words rolling heatedly off his tongue.

"Holy crap Dad, I got this covered, Okay. It was an accident. Jesus, give Sam a break every once and awhile." Dean huffed out, anger rising up in his own voice.

"Is Sammy okay?" Dean noticed a direct pitch change in his father's words, harshness to caring in a moments notice. He blew out a ragged breathe of air and pulled his fingers through his hair, clutching the phone tighter to his ear.

"Sammy's fine Dad, fine. He just got a bad knock on the head. I'm letting him rest." The tension slowly left Dean's body as his concerned words pierced through the phone to his Dad.

"Well, okay then" John's words soft and caring." We are about five hours out. You call me and let me know when you got this done." The line went dead, as Dean let a weary sigh. _God, ever heard of bi-polar disorder? _ Shaking his head, he gripped the door handle and slid back into the front set, eyes glancing as this brother as he picked up the now cold cup of coffee. _Shit._


	11. Chapter 11

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 11**

**Standing Toe to Toe**

Scott Walker made hasty steps down the hallway, three of his football buddies in tow. Lunch was on his mind, and he was not eating the crap they served in the school cafeteria. He suddenly made an abrupt stop causing his friends to stumble around him, thudding lightly into each other.

"Damn Scott, worn a buddy when you're goanna do that." One of his friends mumbled under his breathe. Heads darted around, all eyes watching, as Scott saunter up to Katie Hacker, standing at her locker.

"Hey Katie", he gave her a great big smile, green eyes flickering in hopes of some reconnection.

"I'm not talking to you." Katie whispered, as she glared her blue eyes up at Scott.

"Oh come on Katie, I was just kidding around with Winchester." Scott gave Katie a reassuring smirk, his fingers rubbing down the front of the worn out jacket, hands falling into the pockets. He shuffled on the balls of his Nike High-tops, eyes giving Katie a slight eye roll. He fumbled his fingers around in the pockets, something smooth rubbing against his thumb.

"Scott, you were just an ass to him. You don't have to be like that." Katie hissed out, eyes squinted up in an angry glare.

"Oh Katie come on. I just…I just…I don't like you talking to him." Scott stumbled over his words, his friends all glancing away from his confession. He blinked sheepish eyes over at Katie, who gave him a slight smile, as her posture seemed to go from tense to relax with his words.

He tugged his fingers around the chain, as his finger glazed over the smooth round object attached to it; he yanked it from the pocket. _What was this_? He raised his hand to see the dangling necklace lingering from his fingers. His eyes looked curiously at the object and then back to Katie. Thinking quickly, he blurted out as fast as possible, "I got you a necklace." He grinned widely. Katie's face softened even more as she looked eagerly at the necklace and back to Scott.

"Really? My birthday isn't till next month, you know that." She blinked, her long lashes lingering on her cheeks, she watched him twirling the necklace in front of her face.

"I know that." He leaned around Katie and pulled the necklace over her long hair, tugging it gently around and dropping it on her ample cleavage. His hand rested lightly on nap of her neck. She pealed her eyes over her shoulder at him_. Maybe he wasn't so bad. _Her lips curled up in a flirty little smile.

"Thanks Scott. I love it." She whispered, as she swung around and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "But, this doesn't mean we're back together." She giggled, pulling her dainty fingers up to rub on the locket.

Scott nodded his head slowly, disbelieving eyes falling on his friends, all standing in the hall ogling at him. _Well shit, don't let the girl make you look wussy_. "Whatever. I got it because we are friends now." He lied through his teeth, anger seething just below the surface; he pulled his cocky shoulders back and gave her his best smirk.

Katie's pink glossy lips curled up at the corners, her eyes twinkling at Scott. She twirled lightly on her feet; making her way down the hallway, toward the cafeteria, eager to show friends the necklace Scott had given her.

Scott huffed, as he watched Katie sashayed away. His shoulder nudged harshly past his buddies. "Girls..." He mumbled_. Katie was such a tease. He did not know why he even bothered._ "Let's go get some food." He smirked toward his friends and rolled his eyes. They all laughed, following Scott toward the school side doors and lunchtime freedom.

snsnsnsnsnsn

Dean's hand reached over and gave Sam a slight shake, his brother's head rolling toward him slowly, eyes fluttering open.

"What…?" Sam garbled as he attempted to straighten in the seat.

"Its lunchtime, kiddo. I don't know what this Scott dude looks like." Dean's eyes darted from Sam to the kids exiting the school from the front and the side doors. "Do you see him?"

Sam pushed himself up in the bench seat, blinking to clear his gritty eyes. "…Ummm." He mumbled softly, still hazy from sleep. "That...that's him, right there." Sam raised his finger slowly and pointed toward the students exiting the side door making their way to the parking lot.

Dean arched up a questioning eyebrow as he gazed at the group of students, but the stocky, tall football player, in his brother's jacket, came to the forefront of his vision. "Little twerp." The words were harsh leaving Dean's lips. He revved up the engine and followed the jet black Hummer as it pulled from the school parking lot, four overly large teenagers stuffed inside.

Once they were safely away from the school, rolling down a side street, Dean speed up and pulled the Impala around the vehicle, swerving in front of it.

"Deeann…" Sam's voice was a shaky low tone. He gripped at the dashboard to steady his lunge toward the passenger door as the Impala came to a sudden halt. He heard the tires screech on the black Hummer as it plummeted to a stop. "Damn it Dean." Sam's voice leveled off as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. _He was wide awake now_. He tilted his head up and looked through the passenger window, over at the four football players, all glaring hatefully at him through the front dash of Scott's vehicle.

"I got this." Dean blurted as he pushed the heavy Impala door open, Sam's' eyes gaping at his brother. Sam fumbled quickly for his own door latch as his brother stomped intently at the Hummer. Sam swayed slightly as his shoes hit the pavement, fingers gripping the passenger door to steady him, cold wind whipping past his face. He watched his brother's steadfast steps as he glowered at the car load of teens. Dean could stand toe to toe with the four big lugs, he was nineteen, and Sam knew he could hold his own, but these guys were football players, they were the biggest guys Sam had ever seen. They were also the biggest guys in the senior class at John Davis High School. He wanted to defuse this situation, get the jacket, the locket, and get out of this mess. He pushed off the doorframe, gulping in a deep breathe of air, he firmly stepped toward his brother as the pissed off guys emerged from their car.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" Scott Walker's voice thundered, his three friends all coming to stand behind him. He frowned down at the sandy haired man in front of him, his fists clinched in anger.

Dean stared at the guy, who was wearing his little brother's jacket, anger welling up and clinching at his facial features. His left eye began to twitch as the thought of these guys giving Sam a hard time made him struggle for control. He felt Sam ease up behind him, but maintained his focus on the pricks in front of him.

"GIVE me the DAMN JACKET." Deans voice harsh, quivery; his breathe little cloudy puffs of air. He stared wild eyed at the teens, attempting to reel in his anger.

Sam grimaced at Dean's words. _He sounds just like Dad when he's pissed_.

"Well, well, well; looks like little dork Winchester's big brother is coming to the rescue." Scott garbled out in a smart ass tone, all of his buddies laughing loudly.

Sam rolled his eyes at the statement. "Give me my coat." Sam pushed past his brother, eyes firmly on Scott.

"What's the big deal here, it's just an old hand me down." Scott glared at Dean, eyes squinting up as a snaky grin curled up on his lips.

Sam felt his older brother tense up behind him, heard the anger rising up in his breathing. _Shit_.

He felt Dean's arms rush past him in a whirl and saw his hands come up and grasp Scott by the collar of 'his' coat, giving him a harsh shake.

"It would be smarter to just give it to him." Sam let out in a little quip, grin curling up on his lips.

"Why'd you give to Katie? She's just a big flirt." Scott yanked away from Dean, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. 'Here, you can have your crappy coat" He shimmed out of the jacket and shoved it toward Sam's waiting fingers, as Dean glowered at him.

"She's a nice girl." Sam stepped up as he grabbed the jacket from Scott's fingers_. He wanted to punch this guy's lights out. _ Sam shoved his hand into the pocket, fingers grasping for empty air.

"Where's the locket?" Sam stammered, as he looked from Dean to Scott.

"Oh yeah, she's a nice girl, alright. I gave her the necklace. You know kind of thanks for being such a NICE GIRRRRL" Scott laughed, rolling his eyes as all his buddies let out hearty cackles.

"Oh yeah." One of the guys whispered as he laughed loudly.

In a flash of a moment, Sam saw his brother's fist come up and meet Scotts face. Scott staggered backward at the force of the motion, his buddy nudging him back up and toward Dean.

Sam spun around and gave Dean a push backwards. "No Dean, we got the coat. We can get the locket from Katie. Let it go."

Suddenly, he felt a fist meet the side of his own face. He swayed to the side, vision dancing with black dots. He felt strong fingers grasp his arms as he stumbled into Dean.

"You son's of a bitch's." Dean's voice was a low rumble as he lowered Sam to the blacktop, turning hastily back around, poised to punch someone's lights out. _I am so beating the shit out of these guys_. His fists were tightly clinched, his face a heated flash of anger. He darted his eyes around, watching four large teens clamor to get back inside the Hummer. _Oh yeah, some bad asses you are. _

"Hurry up, he's really pissed." He heard someone say. The engine of the Hummer started quickly, tires screeching as they quickly backed up, speeding down the road and out of sight.

"Pussies", Dean yelled as he leaned down, hands gently grabbing Sam's face, turning it up to look at his cheek.

"You okay?" Dean whispered as he looked inquisitively at Sam.

Sam pulled his hand up to wipe at the side of his cheekbone, feeling the slight pain radiating up and down the side of his face.

"Yea, I think so." He looked up at his brother, who reached his hand down and pulled him to his feet. Sam swayed slightly, Dean clutching his elbow to steady him. "We got to get the locket, Dean. I got to fix this."

"I know. We'll just wait till after school and catch Katie." Dean opened the passenger door and nudged his brother inside.

"Oh yea, that's just going to make her day." Sam rolled his eyes as Dean closed the door. _This was just a big mess. He would never do this again. If he found anything during a hunt, he would leave it where he found it. _

snsnsnsnsn

The Impala was once again parked across the street from John Davis High School, Sam pulling the towel full of ice away from his face.

"This towel smells like gun oil." Sam nose cinched up in a snarl as he looked at his brother; Dean munching intently on his order of chili cheese fries.

"Keep that ice on there." Dean pushed the towel back up toward Sam's cheek. "You eating your fries?"

"So, we just wait here, and when Katie comes out, I'll talk to her and get the locket, right? Sam pushed his fries across the seat to his brother, eyes gazing at him, needing confirmation that this was a good plan.

"Yep, that works. Then we burn it. End of story." Dean finished off the fries, took a large slurp of his mountain dew, and leaned back against the seat. "I need a nap, wake me in about 30 minutes."

Sam sat limply in the front seat, listening to his older brother's light snores. He was sure Katie would be pissed off when he asked her for the locket. _What if she wouldn't give it to him? What then? _ _He would have to make her give it to him, and that could not turn out very well. _He looked around the school yard, it was empty. He glanced around the car_. This was totally boring._

He glanced at Dean again_. Gees, two more hours till school gets out. _ He quietly grasped the door handle and pushed the passenger door open, pulling his long legs out of the car and placing them on the curb. _Don't wake up Dean_. He heard his brother's faint snores behind him, as he left the door open and stepped in front of it to lean against the Impala. He closed his eyes and took a deep intake of air, it was good to just stand up, get out of the cramped car, and breathe. _Would Katie still like him after this_? _It had been a rough 24 hours and he was ready for this whole thing to be over. _ He heard a rustling just in front of him, pulling him from his day dreaming, he opened his eyes, gasping as the air faded from his lungs. He arched his back, pushing back against the Impala door, fingers clamoring to get away, the door closing with a loud thud. The ghastly apparition of Beauregard Plymouth stared blank eyes at Sam's face. "I want it back." He whispered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 12**

**Save Sam**

Dean Winchester woke abruptly; a loud thud ringing through his ears, Impala's sturdy frame rattling with the noise. He jerked his head up from its resting perch, blinking sleep filled eyes out the front windshield. His fingers tightly clutched at the steering wheel as he struggled to gain his bearings. _What the hell_? Recognition slowly crept across his face, his eyes growing wide with the knowledge, then darting across the front seat. _No Sam? _He struggled to push himself out of the car, his eyes hastily falling to the misty gray figure looming menacingly against the passenger door. He saw the black eyes squinting up, ugly lips curled in a snarl, long wavy arms attached to invisible hands; hands that clutched around something just out of his vision. Then he saw it, just above the door frame, a brown mop of hair lolling back and forth in slow motion. His hand haphazardly grasped at the drivers door handle, fingers making purchase against the salt gun lying midway on the seat. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears, his boots thudding one time against the concrete before sliding across the hood of the car. He slammed heavily onto the sidewalk, catching the view of his kid brother hanging limply in the grasp of Beauregard Plymouth. "Let him go you ugly son of a bitch." He pointed the gun directly at the iridescent figure, no hesitation, pulling the trigger with one thought pulsating through his mind. _Save Sam_.

'Ole Bo' screeched loudly, wavering in the spray of salt, wafting into nothingness in the cold, icy air. Dean knelt quickly down at his brother's side, gun falling to the concrete with a thump, fingers grabbing roughly at Sam's collar. "Sam? You okay? Look at me." He tugged tightly on the blue jean jacket, giving Sammy a slight shake, watching as his brother's head rolled around on his neck.

Sam felt the chilly tendrils grasping tightly against his throat as he stared into the face of 'Ole Bo'. _Shit._ He struggled to push the apparition away from him, watching as his fingers and arms went straight through the figure, without grabbing anything at all. "Dean" he whispered, pushing his right arm as hard as possible against the Impala's door, praying that the movement would wake up his older brother. He thrashed about wildly, attempting to push away, disconnect himself from the ghost. _Where the hell was salt when he needed it? _ He strived to stay focused as air did not seem to be making its way to his empty lungs. The daylight seemed to be fade in and out of his view; his mind traveled down a dark hazy tunnel with nothing but darkness at the end. He felt his hands falling limply to his sides as he listened to the humming grow in intensity. His lips formed one word, before he succumbed to the darkness. "Dean."

"Sam, open your eyes." Dean's voice was commanding; a direct order that Sam was accustomed to and his eyes scrunched up with the noise. Something was calling to him just past the end of the dark tunnel and he struggled to grasp onto it, cold air rushing into his body in one big swoosh. He welcomed it, gulped it down, rejoiced in it, and let it lead him out of the blackness. He felt his lashes flutter lightly against his cheeks as he cracked his lids open a fraction, bright light causing him to tremble unconscientiously. He blinked lazily as he watched the figure in front of him gradually take formation, blurry at first, but then, taking on a definite shape as it morphed slowly into his older brother. "Deeeaan…" He murmured, as he looked wide eyed over his brother's shoulder, eyes darting around, and his body shuddering slightly.

"It's okay Sammy, I gotcha. "Ole Bo's' gone." Dean's voice comforted him in a soft, even tone. Sam blinked owlish eyes up at his big brother, "Damn it Sammy, why'd you get out of the car?" Dean grasped him by the arms and lifted him bodily to his feet, Sam swaying slightly into him. "Come on, deep breaths kiddo, you're okay." He encouraged, as he lurched the passenger door open and slid his kid brother into the seat.

Sam leaned his head back to rest on the bench seat, watching as Dean picked up the salt gun and made his way back around the front of the car. He observed people down the road walking across the street, no one giving him or Dean a look or a second thought. It seemed almost surreal to him, everyone always so caught up in their own little worlds, totally oblivious to what was going on around them, oblivious to 'Ole Bo'. He let out a slight sigh as he brushed his fingers across his sore neck, still sucking down oxygen like there was not tomorrow. _He wished he could have that normal life_. _At fifteen, he shouldn't even have to worry about digging up graves, pocketing lockets off of old dead guys, and being strangled. What was wrong with this picture? _ He heard the creak of the driver's door as Dean eased into the front seat, fingers coming up to brush against Sam's cheek, inquisitive eyes peering into his face. "You okay kiddo?"

"I'm fi…fine. Sorry, I let 'Ole Bo' get the one up on me." He grinned weakly at his brother.

"No, I'm sorry, I let 'Ole Bo' get the one up on you!" Dean snarled out, angry with himself for letting this freaking ghost hurt his brother. _Again!_ _His Dad would be so pissed._

"You still up for this?" Dean inquired as he let his hand move from his brother's face to push slowly through his own hair. _Jesus, I am so ready to get rid of this damn locket._ He glanced at his watch as his hand fell back to his lap. _2:45, Thank God_.

"Yeah." Sam's voice came out a little squeaky, but he nodded his head in a sure motion at Dean, eyes firm and determined. "We got to get rid of that locket."

Katie Hacker made fast steps down the hallway of John Davis High School, fingers clutching at the locket held firmly around her neck. She could not believe that Scott had given her this beautiful necklace for her birthday. _He was not really such a bad guy after all. _She dumped her books into her locker, eyes darting around to her friends who were gathering around her.

"Can you believe it, Scott giving you that necklace? Girl, I don't believe it. I thought you guys were history." Her best friend nudged up against her shoulder as all the others girls giggled in agreement. Katie flashed them a big smile as she gazed down at the locket dangling on her shirt.

"Yep, I think he's a keeper." She sighed cockily, and turned to exit the building. Her thoughts roving to Scott.

Sam strained to look at the kids exiting the building, eyes glancing through the crowd looking intently for Katie. Dean's hand punched him abruptly on the shoulder as he leaned slightly in toward the windshield shaking his head.

"Isn't that her?" Dean offered, his eyes darting from the windshield to Sam and back to the windshield.

"Yep." Sam's fingers latched onto the passenger door and pushed it open with a quick motion. Dean quickly followed suit. Sam ran his fingers hastily over his jacket and down across his shirt, brushing lightly at the wrinkles, tugging the collar up to cover his bruised neck. He pulled his fingers through his long hair, tugging his bangs across the large knot and bruise that decorated his face.

Dean snaked up a lopsided grin at Sam's unconscious motions. _Sammy, you are such a girl._

"What are you doing?" Sam looked keenly at Dean as he walked past the driver's door.

"I'm coming with you." Dean's grin disappeared as his eyes pierced a stern look at his brother.

"I can do this myself." Sam stepped hastily away from the Impala, as he headed directly for the crowd exiting the school building.

"Well, you ain't gonna. Not this time. You been banged around too much the last 24 hours, not happening again." Dean stepped hurriedly behind his brother's long legs to catch up to him, fingers clutching his jacket over the salt gun and zipping it hastily shut against the cold air.

"Deaaaan…its Katie, how can she hurt me." Sam stammered out, rolling his eyes at his older sibling, knowing it was a futile attempt to argue with him when he was in full big brother mode.

"Oh man, a babe like that. She can hurt you." Dean snickered as illicit thoughts ran through his mind.

Sam shook his head, "You're unbelievable." His breathe coming out in exasperation, he bounded away from his brother toward Katie Hacker.

He felt nervous the closer he got to her, his heart pounding in his chest, hands growing clammy at his sides. _She's so pretty_. He reached his fingers up to tap her lightly on the shoulder, eyes growing wide as she turned to look at him, locket swinging around on her neck.

"Hi Sam, where did you disappear to today?" She whispered out, leaning attentively into his arm, grin curling up on her pink shiny lips.

Sam shuffled on his feet, eyes glancing up at Katie through his long bangs. "I went home sick, but, I feel better." Sam smiled. _She is so perfect_. He could feel his brother's eyes leering at his back as he darted a glance over his shoulder at him. Dean mouthing "Get the locket".

Dean rolled his eyes at his little brother. _He is so love struck for this chick._ He wished he would just hurry this up. _It was freaking freezing out here_.

"So, I see you got a new necklace." Sam offered as he gazed at the necklace and back at Katie's smile.

"Yes, I did. Scott gave it to me." She blurted out, fingers rubbing up and down the locket, clasping and unclasping around it.

"I hate to tell you this Katie", Sam stammered out, "but, Scott got that locket out of my coat pocket." His eyes squinted over at her, knowingly nodding his head.

"He did not; he got it for me, for my birthday." Katie's look soured, her face growing into a large frown at Sam. "He told me so."

"He lied." Sam voice was hardly a whisper, the wind wiping up around them both. "It's my locket Katie, and I want, I need it back." Sam stammered over his own words, chest seizing up in a large knot he could barely swallow over. He shuffled on his feet, hand reaching out, palm open toward Katie.

Katie clutched the locket tightly in her fingers, eyes glaring up at Sam. "You are just lying Sam Winchester." She spoke loudly, voice quivering on every word.

"No, Katie. I'm telling the truth. Scott did not buy you that locket; he took it from my coat pocket." Sam's head tilted, concerned eyes falling to Katie's face.

"I don't believe you, just because I talked to you, just because Scott was being nice to me; it doesn't give you the right to tell me a big ole lie." Katie took a retreating step from Sam's hand, angry grey eyes piercing at him. "I can't help it everyone makes fun of you, that you don't …don't have any friends…." Katie huffed out, voice rising an octave with each word.

Sam's mouth fell open, stunned with the words that were piercing through the cold, windy air out of Katie's mouth. _What? _He blinked wide eyed at her, as she continued to back away from Sam, locket going with her, twisted tightly in her fingers.

Dean waited patiently on the sidelines as Sam talked to Katie_. Jeez, Sam, hurry up and get the locket._ He shuffled his hands down deeper in his coat pocket, fingers kneading against the gun he held beneath his coat. He heaved out a breathe of cold air as he watched, listened to Sam talk to Katie, watching intently as she seemed to back away from his little brother. _He really wasn't ease dropping_. He cocked his head to the side, straining slightly at her terse words pierced through the frigid air to his brain. _What the hell did she just say? Oh, she did not just say that to Sam. What a bitch. _He glanced from Katie back to Sam, who stood dumbfounded, face frozen in a gaping appearance, mouth hanging open. He noticed the color was draining from his baby brother's face. _That's it. _Dean's body lurched forward, shoulder gently pushing Sammy aside, he reached his hand out and ripped the locket from Katie Hacker's neck, yanking it from her fingers, dangling it momentarily in his hand, he glared harshly at her. "You, my dear, are a bitch." He reached around and grabbed Sam's arm, dragging his wide eyed brother back toward the Impala. Sam glancing several times back over his shoulder at Katie, who stood, hands firmly on her hips, overly pink lips pouted up in an angry glare, ratty black hair blowing wildly in the wind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Thanks to everyone for the great reviews!! You guys are awesome!!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 13**

**Can't Fix This **

Dean shoved his little brother into the passenger seat, Sam's mouth still gapping open, eyes transfixed on Katie Hacker, a slight dazed and confused look masking his face. Dean glared at her one last time as he shuffled into the driver's seat. He revved up the Impala, gravel flying out from under the tires; he swerved out onto the roadway. _What a freaking 'bitch'_. He dropped the locket from his fingers to the bench seat as he looked hesitantly across at Sam. He sat perfectly still, seemingly stunned into submission, as he gazed out the windshield. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter, mind contemplating the best way to handle this situation. _He had helped Sam through homework, skinned knees, and nightmares. Taught him to ride a bike, write his name, and tie his shoes; but this, this was a new one. _ He cleared his throat nervously as he glanced back at Sam.

"Hey, you okay over there, kiddo?" Dean's tone was gentle and soft, left eye twitching as he struggled to squash his own anger. _He wanted to kick the shit out of something. _"Sammy?"

"Yeah… I just…just …I didn't think….she, she." Sam's words stumbled over one another as they rose from his lips, eyes blinking quickly; he attempted to keep his emotions in check. _Winchester's don't cry_. "I…I thought…." He turned his face hastily away from Dean and gazed out the passenger window. Dean's eyes darted from the road to his brother, watching as he struggled to stay in control, his bottom lip quivering slightly.

"It okay Sam. I know you liked her. It's okay." Dean voice was quiet and concerned, a tone Sam recognized from his childhood, from all the times Dean had fixed things, made them better.

Sam brought the sleeve of his jacket up, hastily rubbing it across his face, rough material scratching crosswise against his damp eyelids. He dropped his weighty hand back to his lap; long fingers fumbling around one another, face downcast, long bangs covering his features. "I'm fine, Dean", he whispered.

Dean shook his head, eyes piercing through the windshield and down the roadway, grimace rising on his lips. _He freaking hated this, he wanted to fix this for his brother. He wanted to make it go away. _He gritted his teeth, white knuckled as he clutched the steering wheel.

"Sam, she's not worth it, you're better than she is." Dean offered; voice a reassuring quality as he glanced back at his brother.

"Whatever." Sam mumbled, his eyes never leaving his lap, or looking over at his older brother.

Dean felt a tight knot twist up in his gut. He hated that his brother had to go through this, and he hated that he could not fix it. He pressed the gas pedal heavily against the floorboard, the Impala eating up the highway.

oooooooooooooooooo

The shrill ring of Dean's cell phone pulled him from the thoughts of the last two hours as he whipped it from his pocket, easing it to his ear.

"Did you get the locket?" a gruff, loud, voice reverberated in his ear. "Is your brother okay?"

"Yes Dad, we got the locket. Sam's fine. We are on our way to the gravesite to burn it." Dean gave his head a slight nod as he looked over at his brother.

"Sam made a stupid mistake. I hope he has learned a lesson. Just make sure you get it taken care of. " John huffed out in a direct order.

Sam rolled his eyes. _He could hear his Dad from here_. He slid down against the leather seat, eyes glaring out the window, fixated on the sun that was falling behind the tree line.

"I said, we have it under control, Dad, and we do." Dean's words came out slightly harsher than intended. _His Dad could really piss him off._

"Well, good then; Bobby and I are about a 3 hours out. Call me when you're done; we'll meet you at the apartment. And Dean, tell you're brother we will be discussing this when I get there." Dean let out a long sigh as he slammed the phone shut and flung it against the seat next to the locket.

"It's safe to say he's pissed at me." Sam spoke softly, eyes never looking from the window. "I was stupid; I shouldn't have taken the locket". His hand came over and fumbled on the bench set, pulling the necklace up in his fingers, thumb rubbing against the flat, smooth surface. "He won't believe I forgot about it, Dean. He'll say being hurt was no excuse, that I should not have taken it to start with. He won't hear what I say, he never does." Sam shrugged and dropped the locket back to the seat. "He's right."

"Sammy he's not right, and you are not stupid." The words rolled off of Dean's tongue as the anger at their Dad brimmed just beneath the surface. _It hurt to see how his Dad could do this to his little brother. The constant butting heads, arguments, and disagreements were relentless. Yes, Sammy should get his head out of the clouds and focus more; but Dad needed to think before he let harsh words escape from his lips. The entire situation between the two of them made his stomach tie up in a knot._ He gripped the steering wheel tighter and glared intently down the roadway.

"Well, Dad sure thinks so." Sammy slumped down lower in the seat, a defeated look rising on his face.

"Yeah, well, like I have said before, Dad can be an ass." Dean quirked up a grin at Sam and watched as a smile tugged at his kid brother's lips. _Was Sam smiling? Alright, Dean._

oooooooooooooooooo

Dean felt the presence before he saw it, looming just behind him. His eyes darted up to the rearview mirror at the pasty white face that stared back at him, evil grin warped up on his lips. _Shit, Ole Bo._ He moved his foot rapidly to the brake, as the ghostly tendrils came over the seat, an ethereal arm wrapping around Sam's neck. Sam's eyes grew unexpectedly wide as he pushed his body against the bench seat. He gasped impatiently for air, fingers attempting to attain a grip on the leather seat. Dean fumbled with the salt gun as the Impala swerved on the pavement. _Save the car; save my brother? No choice. _ He let his grip fall from the steering wheel as he broke hard, hands clutching the salt gun from the floorboard. He could feel the car spinning wildly, tires squealing, as he focused the gun on 'Ole Bo's' face and pulled the trigger, the appalling figure wavering into naught as the Impala careened off the road and down an embankment.

The next thirty seconds were fleeting, dropping the gun, one hand to the wheel, one hand to anchor his brother; then watching as a tree came toward them at the speed of light; the sound of sturdy metal impacting with a loud crunch. He felt his body jar harshly forward against the seatbelt, bone snapping cruelly in his wrist as he was flung full force into the dash. Through the abrupt pain; he felt his chin thudding mercilessly against the steering wheel, then, swift darkness claimed him. His last conscious thought. _Sammy?_

oooooooooooooooo

John Winchester paced the carpet of the tiny apartment he shared with his sons. He pulled his fingers through his hair as he held the cell phone against his ragged beard, ear straining, hoping to hear a live voice. The phone rang three times, just like the six other times he had called, and then clicked over to voice mail. "You've reached Dean Winchester, you know what to do."

"Dean, damn it boy, pick up." John's voice bellowed into the cell phone.

Bobby Singer shuffled on his boots, head shaking harshly back and forth. "John, yelling into his voice mail, is not doing a damn thing." He offered to the distressed father. He watched as John pressed in Sammy's phone number, then did the same thing when Sam's voice mail came on the line.

Bobby reached his hand over and ripped the phone from John's grasp. "Let's go find them. They should have called by now, should have been here."

John glared at him, grabbing his jacket from the couch; he gruffly pushed past Bobby toward the front door. "Lets go, it's getting dark out."

Bobby nodded in agreement, and followed his friend out to the truck, keys dangling in his fingers. He quickly started the engine and pulled out on the highway, the trek to the cemetery was at least a two hour drive. His mind was racing. _John Winchester would never survive if something happened to his boys. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 14**

**Standing Rock**

The sun had set, the cold, grey, night air rolling across the skyline as Dean Winchesters head fell forward, the pressure against his chin sending a sharp pain up his jaw line. _Where the hell was he? _He shuddered against the loud ringing in his ears. _Man he had a killer headache._ He slowly turned his head, as another pain ripped across his face. _Why's my freaking face hurt? _He slowly licked his lips, the taste of copper covering his tongue and causing his gag reflect to kick in, he swallowed convulsively to stave off the nausea. He let his eyes open to slits as he brought his hand up to feel the dampness against his jaw. He peered through his heavy lids to his hand, noting the bright red coating that covered his fingers. _Well, shit. _ He pushed against the steering wheel, left hand sending a huge pain scorching up his arm. _Shit, shit, and shit_. He took a large gulp of air as he attempted to squash back the pain, gather his thoughts, gain his bearings. _Okay, where am I? Car, yes, I am in the car. _ _Left hand hurts? Wrist, broken, yes…broken._ His eyes squinted tightly closed as he reached his right hand across and pulled his left arm to his chest, resting the broken wrist against his stomach. _Better._ Hazy memories flooding back to him, _Ole Bo, Car, tree, SAM! _

Dean flung his body heavily back against the leather seat as he fought to open his eyes, clear his vision, looking for his brother. He blinked back the fuzziness, catching sight of the figure slumped profoundly against the door, head lolled against the window; the shattered glass spraying out in a spidery web of blood. His adrenaline kicked in, he felt a sudden rush of clarity as his mind sprang into action.

"Sam. Hey, Hey….Sam." Dean's bloody hand darted across the seat and gripped his little brother's arm, Sam swaying over to his side with the motion, falling down against the seat. Dean pressed his blood slicked fingers against his brother's neck, a slight huff of air escaping his lips when he felt a pulse. He gently scooted on the seat and pulled Sam's head up to lean against his leg. Deans' eyes rested on Sam's face, and the blood running down past his ear to his collarbone. Dean quickly pulled his hair to the side to reveal the large black bruise, two inch gash, and little flakes of glass just above his right eyebrow. _Damn Sam, you got matching lumps on your head. _

"Come on Sam." Dean gently patted his brother's cheek as he looked intently into his face. "Sam…wake up. Open your eyes." He watched as Sam seemed to hear him, face besieged to do as instructed. His eyelashes brushed lightly against his cheeks, as glazed orbs finally looked up at Dean.

"That's it, look at me. You okay?" Dean pulled his fingers through his brothers long locks, concern etched on his face.

"D…D..ean? Wh...what 'appened?" Sam's voice was low and shaky, eyebrows in a tense arch, pain evident on his features.

"Well, for starters, Ole Bo decided to make an appearance. Then I shot the bastard with salt, but we hit a tree."

"In the car?" Sam looked confusedly up at Dean.

"No Sam, we just walked right into it." Dean let out a slight chuckle at his own words. _Yes, his car, his baby, now wrapped around a freaking tree_.

"He...ad...h'rts", Sam's voice slurred slightly as his eyes gradually closed.

"Sam!" Dean yelled forcefully, hand giving his brother a slight shake.

With a start, Sam's eyes popped open, staring intently at the eldest Winchester.

"Hey, hey, where's my cell phone?" Dean eyes darted to his brother.

"Idonknow", Sam's words all slurred together, innocent eyes gawking up at Dean.

"Shit", Dean's eyes flitted around the Impala, neck craning to see_. Where is my phone?_ His arm gave a sharp pain and he grimaced. He leaned his head back against the seat, and stared out the front window, cringing lightly as he saw the large tree now mere feet from his face. _Shit_.

"Where's your cell phone? Sam…Sam…Where's your cell phone?" Dean's head reared up off the seat, and he pulled directly in Sam's line of vision. Sam's large eyes stared up at his older brother. Dean's fingers lightly pulled through Sam's hair, waiting for his brother to answer. Sam just continued to look puzzled. "Sam…" Sam blinked vacantly at him, no words coming from his lips. "You okay?" Dean reached his good hand down and pulled Sam's chin, leaning down so close that his face was a mere breathe away from his. He strained through the low light at Sam's glazed over eyes, uneven pupils. _Shit. _"Looks like you had one to many knocks on the head today, Sammy." He whispered, his brother's cheek falling slowly down against Dean's hand.

"Humph…" Sam mumbled, barely audible, head wobbling around on his neck.

Dean gently adjusted his brother so that he was leaning more at an angle, head now lying on his lap.

"What hurts, Sam?" Concern washed over Dean as he struggled to see his brother's gangly limbs in the waning light.

"'Sh..ldr" Sam slurred, eyes slowly sliding shut.

Immediate panic rose up in Dean's chest. "Sam, stay awake." Dean's fingers lightly tapped against Sam's cheek.

"ellph? Sam mumbled again, blinking slowly, attempting to bring a hand up, tossing it lightly in the air and then thudding it back against his chest. "Inmyocket."

"What? Sam?" Dean recognized the signs of a severe concussion when he saw one. His brother was confused, slurring, and he needed to get him the hell out of here. He tugged Sam's coat tighter around his now quivering frame. His own concussion causing a momentary blur in vision, he blinked hastily.

"De…n, war ar we? Head h'rts." Sam's head rolled against Dean's leg as confusion all of a sudden morphed into panic. He wheezed in some air as he looked wide eyed up at his brother.

Dean's firm hand pressed steadily against him. "Sam, it's okay. You got a concussion. Ole Bo, Tree. Remember?" He soothed.

Sam eased out a low breathe of air, face contorting up in a confused look, "Dean? I feel sick."

Dean tensed up momentarily, eyes peering keenly at his little brother. _Holy crap, don't throw up in the car. _"You gonna be sick?"

Sam swallowed gradually, as he struggled to keep the contents of his stomach. "Myh'dhurts." He garbled as he slowly closed his eyes, body going limp.

"Sam…Sam…" Tears rose up in Dean's eyes, and he blinked harshly against them. He pulled his little brother tighter up against him, his mind racing over their predicament. _They were too far down this ravine for anyone to see them. He couldn't find his damn cell phone. He couldn't find Sam's cell phone. The driver's door was curved in so badly, he would never get out of it. He wouldn't leave Sammy anyway. Maybe Dad…maybe… _He struggled to pull in his wayward thoughts as his vision began to blur, white dots dancing in front of his eyes, before they sagged and slowly closed.

Oooooooooooooooo

The graveyard in Standing Rock, Illinois was ominously silent, not even the wind seemed to be blowing. Both sets of eyes gazed intently from the truck across the cemetery, then at the head stone in the distance. No Impala, No Shovels, No Sam, and No Dean.

"Where the hell are they? Oh my god, what if 'Ole Bo' got to them?" Rash thoughts jumbled in John Winchester's mind as the words left his lips in a low whisper. He gazed back from the graveyard to Bobby's face, concern etched on all his features. He pulled his weary hand through his hair, as the strain of not finding his boys took a sudden toll against him, his body trembling lightly.

"It's okay, John. We'll find um." He threw the truck into gear and veered back onto the road, flipping on the light bar across the back of the bed, he leaned into the steering wheel, driving slowly down the old roadway. "We'll find um."


	15. Chapter 15

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

Thanks for all the great reviews. Keep um coming!!

**Chapter 15**

**Take Care of My Boys**

The golden beam of light gave a glow to the evening sky, the truck slowly rolling down the country road. Two sets of eyes pierced through the cold night air, straining to see into the darkness, the trees, the bushes. John wretched his cell phone out of his pocket again, fingers pressing Dean's speed dial without even looking from the window. Bobby's eyes darted across at him, concern evident in is features. They had been looking for John's son's for the last hour, and Bobby was starting to the see strain unmistakably in John's face. _Where the hell were they?_

John held the phone tightly to his ear. _If he was a religious man, and daresay, he wasn't; he would just pray to God to let him find his boys._ _They were all he had in this world. He was hard on them, he knew it, but he had to keep them safe, and that meant he had to make them tow the line_. He heaved out another weary breathe, as the phone rang to voicemail, concern welled up in his eyes, and he blinked it back quickly, pulling the strength from somewhere, he firmly disconnected the line, knowing that his voice would give away his emotions. His fingers eagerly punched in the Sam's number, prayer whispering in his thoughts. _Please, God, don't take them from me, please._

ooooooooooooooooo

_What is that freaking noise_? That ringing was getting on Dean's last nerve. Hewilled himself to comprehend the sound; he could hear it, over and over and over. He slowly drug open his heavy lids as he attempted to raise his weighty head from its resting place, blinking sluggishly. Sudden awareness came to him, and he franticly listened; the noise was gone. He gazed down at his pale faced, unconscious little brother and tugged him in tighter against his body. _God, he is so cold_. He pulled his good hand hesitantly away from Sam, and took purchase on the ignition key, twisting it, the car sputtering, whining loudly, but doing absolutely nothing. He shrugged as he pulled his hand away, the desire for heat now only a notion. _What an idiot, why would you think the car would start, a tree now a permanent part of the engine_. He snickered lightly and returned his hand down to rest on his baby brother's hair, once again, tugging through his brown locks.

Just as quickly as it had stopped; the sound pierced in the darkness. _Was that Sam's phone? Sam's phone?_ He felt around on the front of Sam's jacket, fingers grabbing the phone from its resting place. _Holy crap, it was there all the time._ He flipped it open, and brought it swiftly to his ear. "Dad?" he quivered, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.

"Dean…" a heavy sigh permeated through the phone, "Dean…Thank God, Dean, where are you?" John Winchester's voice was laden with concern.

Bobby's foot plummeted down harshly against the brake paddle as he heard John's voice talking into the phone line, his heart beat wildly in his chest. He yanked in a large breathe of air and waited, listened, engine idling as the tow truck sat in the middle of the road.

"Dad, I…I wreaked the c…car. Sam…Sam…" Dean's voice shuddered out in a low murmur as the magnitude of his words made him wheeze for air.

"Dean. Dean, it's okay? What's wrong with Sam? Dean...anwser me…" John pulled in a breath, eyes flaring over at Bobby.

"He hit the w...window. Dad, I can't...can't wake him u...up."

John pulled his shaking hand up to his hairline, eyes squinting tightly shut. _Okay, okay, hold it together Winchester._ "Son, where are you?" John's military training taking a hold; he reeled in his own emotions. _Find out where they are, get to them; take care of my boys._

Dean sighed into the phone, "We were about a mile from the cemetery. 'Ole ...B...Bo' showed up. We ran off the r…road, down a hill, hit…hit a t...tree."

"Right or left hand side?" John's stern tone vibrated through the line.

"I…ah…" Dean paused, mind flashing back through their collision with the tree.

"Dean, right or left?" John's voice firm.

"Right. Right." Dean offered just a firmly, sure of his statement.

"Okay, stay on the line with me; we are looking for you right now. Can you see the road?" He held the phone away from his lips, "Bobby, turn around, they are back the other way." The truck made a sudden u-turn and eased back down the highway at a slow gate, light permeating down the right hand side of the road.

"I can see in the side mirror; the road, it's up behind us." Dean gazed intently into the mirror, eyes straining to see anything but darkness. He kept the phone glued to his ear, listening to his Dad murmur reassurance through the line.

"Son, watch for us. Yell, when you see something. Keep looking Dean. Keep looking."

Sam released a slight moan, and Dean's eyes darted from the mirror to his brother. "Dad…hang…hang on."

John heard a slight rustling, his eldest whispering through the line, "Sam, shh, it's okay…its okay."

"Dean, is he alright?" John spoke loudly into the phone.

"Yea...yea, he's not awake." Dean's voice came back in clearly. "Hey, I see something."

"Bobby…STOP!" John shouted, the truck coming to an abrupt halt. "Okay, you still see it?"

"Yes, I see a light. You need to come further." Dean offered.

"Okay, Bobby…he see's us; go slow." The truck rolled at a deliberate pace; John and Bobby gazing down the hillside, through the darkness, the trees, the brush.

"What's that? See that?" John squinted, finger pointing down the embankment.

"Dad, I see the light, it's bright." Dean huffed out a long breathe of air, relief evident in his tone.

"Okay, we're coming, son." John slapped the cell phone closed, grin curling up on his lips as both he and Bobby bound from the truck.

John's boots barely touched the ground as he plummeted down the hill toward the Impala, breathe heavy from the strain. Bobby was huffing beside him as he skimmed down the hill, toe to toe with John. The view of the Impala grew larger the closer they got, and the air swooshed out of both their lungs at the site.

"Holy Shit." Bobby whispered.

"Oh God…Dean…Dean." The sight alone caused John's chest to clinch up, mind rushing, the reality that his son's were in that car, wrapped around that tree, momentarily causing the Dad in him to overtake the soldier.

"DAD" Dean's voice echoed into the darkness, face struggling around to see his father.

John and Bobby glided precariously into the side of the driver's door, four eyes peering through the wreckage and into the car; Dean's bloody, wide eyed face gazing back at them.

"Dean…hang on." _There is no way I am opening this door_. John hurriedly slid around to the driver's side as Bobby leaned in the window, tugging at Dean's chin, shining his flashlight directly in the nineteen year old face.

"Damn it Bobby, stop that." Dean leered.

"Well, ain't you just a pretty sight." Bobby quirked, the flashlight's glow melted across the seat to rest on Sammy. "Sweet Jesus."

John wretched open the passenger door, eyes falling to his youngest. He was momentarily stunned, comprehension of the sight overwhelming him. Then his military instinct kicked in. His hand reached lightly to his boy's neck, feeling for a pulse. He noticed Sam's lanky body was trembling, dried blood sticking to his face. His eyes fell to the large bruises that decorated his forehead, one with a large knot that seemed slightly faded, one fresh, two inch gash atop a large lump.

"Jeez Dean, what the hell has he been doing?" John barked out as he felt the steady thump beneath his fingers, then moved them swiftly over Sam's frame_. That shoulder's dislocated. _

"Ole Bo" Dean grimaced as Bobby tugged his curled arm away from his stomach, giving it a slight once over.

"Well, that's broke." Bobby muttered. "John, kid okay?"

"Give me the light." John reached over and took the flashlight from Bobby, fingers tugging open Sam's eyelids and shining the light directly into them. _Definite concussion here._ Sam let out a slight moan and pulled his face away from the light and John's prying fingers. _That's good_. "Sam, Sammy?" John patted his son's pale face, eyes watching intently for some reaction.

Sam mumbled. "De...e...n?" He sluggishly gazed up at his Dad.

Dean's hand fell quickly to the top of Sam's head, fingers lingering there. "Sammy, right here, kiddo. Right here."

"Okay, let's get you guys out of here and to the hospital." John's tone firm and reassuring, he nodded at Bobby; who whipped his cell phone out and pressed 911.

Dean relaxed back into the leather seat, eyes blinking at his Dad, the strain of the last four hours seeping into his bones. He vaguely heard his father's voice vibrating through his aching head, "Did you get rid of the locket?"

Dean's eyes struggled to stay open and he murmured lightly, "No, it's here… somewhere." The ringing in his ears grew loader, as he gazed at his Dad, watching his lips move, the loud humming noise drowning out his words.


	16. Chapter 16

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 16**

**A Locket in my Pocket**

John Winchester's fingers reached as far under the bench seat of the mangled Impala as possible, groping for the object. "Damn locket? Got to be here." A grin suddenly rose on his lips as he fumbled and grasped it firmly in his hand, yanking it like a prize from its hiding spot under the seat. "Got it." His voice was almost giddy with the find. He stuffed the object in his tee shirt pocket, smile curling up on his lips. He reached down tugging at his jacket curling it tighter across his unconscious son. His face darted up to gaze at his oldest, whose wide eyes were now glaring steadily at him. _What the hell, you're son is laying here unconscious and you're looking for the damn locket? _He looked from Dean to Bobby, who was holding the flashlight, frown decorating his face. "You okay, Dean?" John shuffled uncomfortably under both men's scrutiny.

"I can't believe you sometimes." Dean whispered, as he brought his swollen hand down to rest on his brother's hair, the other tugging him up against his body.

"We have to get rid of it…Dean. We have to finish the hunt." A slight hesitation rose and fell in his stern military tone. _He would not let Ole Bo hurt his boys again. _Bobby nodded lightly, but voiced no opinion either way.

"Whatever." Dean craned his neck to the side, disapproval resting heavily in his stomach; he glanced in the mirror, seeing the red light's flashing brightly back at him. _He hated that his Dad always put the hunt first._ The sounds of the police and ambulance sirens pierced through the cold night air as he struggled to stay awake. He blinked slowly over at his father, and tightened his arm around his brother as the darkness claimed him.

oooooooooooooo

The ride to the hospital was a blur to Dean. He woke suddenly, as his body was being pulled from the tangled metal of his baby. Riding in the ambulance; all he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest, but fear for his brother would not allow that. He kept his eyes focused on Sam's lifelessly body lying on the other gurney. He gripped his limp hand tightly in his own, refusing to release it the entire ride to the hospital_. Boy that was one pissed off paramedic. _

The time in the emergency room wasn't much clearer; the only crisp thought he retained was that his brother was grasped from him immediately on arrival. Questions, confusion, fingers poking and prodding. and finally, he was released to his father's care, wrist tightly fitted in a brand new cast, medication given to his father. He sat quietly in the waiting room, weary head leaning against his Dad's shoulder._ Dad's here, it's okay to rest for a second._ He could not fight fatigue any longer as he drifted into sleep. He was woken abruptly from his slumber, John's loud voice sounding in his ear, "Dean, wake up; the doctor."

"Mr. Winfrey? Are you here with Sam Winfrey?" The young, female doctor stated, eyes gazing directly at John.

"Yes, how is he?" John queried, standing hastily to his feet, Bobby following suite.

"Is my brother okay". Dean stood on his wobbly legs, concern etched on his face. He felt Bobby's large hand pressing firmly between his shoulder blades, holding him steady.

"He has a severe concussion, his right shoulder was wretched out of the socket, we addressed that issue; his arm is in a sling. He's got a lot of bruises, contusions. We had to pick glass out of his forehead" She blinked studious eyes at them as she continued. "It's the concussion I am most concerned about." She shuffled on her feet, as her eyes fell back to John. "He's been unconsciousness since he got here, a direct result of the head trauma. We also noticed another bump on his head, seems to be recent, not a result of this accident? Can you explain that?"

John's mind was racing, he certainly wasn't expecting this. "Ah...he…he…"

"He tripped over his big boat feet this morning and hit his head on the nightstand. My brother is an accident waiting to happen." Nineteen year old Dean blinked at the young doctor, smile rising on his lips. Her face darted from Dean, to John, to Bobby, and then back to John. Who only nodded his head in agreement, lips firmly holding a strategically placed smile.

"If he wakes up, I will ask him about it; just to confirm your story." She clinched her clipboard tightly back against her chest, slight frown falling on her lips, she turned to go.

"If, you mean, when he wakes up?" Dean spoke firmly, voice trailing behind her. There was no doubt evident in his tone, only reality, as he knew it to be. He sat slowly back down to the chair, hand darting up to grasp his brother's fingers tightly.

ooooooooooooooo

Sam wanted to open his eyes, wanted to comply with the voice that was saying his name. "Sam, wake up little brother," the tone whispered in a warm, comforting pitch. He recognized the voice. A gentle hand clasped his fingers, made a light rubbing motion against his wrist. "Sammy."

He felt callas fingers tugging through his hair as a stronger tone spoke sternly, "Open your eyes, Sam!" He acknowledged his father's demanding voice. That was an order. He squinted, attempting to open his fuzzy eyes, blinking slowly as he made the effort to focus on the faces in front of him, unclear shapes without features. He felt his stomach flip convulsively, as the bile rose to his lips, and spewed out, rolling across his chin and down his neckline, a puddle dampening the gown. He squeezed his eyes tighter, to hold the tears at bay. His head was one large pain that rolled over him, his stomach doing somersaults.

"Shit. Bobby, give me that rag." John Winchester's tone was sharp as he forced a hand beneath Sam's long locks and turned his head to the side, allowing the vile liquid to roll down the side of Sam's face, soaking into his hospital gown. John pressed a hard finger to the call button, as he continued to help his youngest. Sammy's confused, dazed eyes mere slits looking up at him. .

Dean felt Sammy's fingers tense around his own wrist as he struggled against the nausea that was assaulting him on waking. He leaned his head over closer to Sam, in a low voice, he whispered, "its okay kiddo, its okay." His fingers tightened around his brother's wrist. "Shhhhh".

A short, podgy nurse entered the room in a fast motion, eyes darting around to Sam.

"Oh you poor dear, let me get you cleaned up." She smiled warmly up at John and tugged the damp rag from his fingers. "Can you all wait outside for a moment?

Bobby hustled over to where Dean was sitting in the plastic hospital chair and leaned down, fingers clinching tightly on the young man's elbow as he stood up.

"I'm fine Bobby." Dean assured, but Bobby only nodded and tightened his grasp. The boy looked exhausted, his left wrist now in a bulky cast, large cut with stitches decorating his chin. The slight concussion making dark smudges appear against his cheeks.

"Dean?" John's voice once again was a stick military tone. "Let Bobby help you." He ordered.

"I'm not leaving him." Dean stated matter of fact, as he stood on shaky legs.

The concerned nurse's eyes gazed from the patient to the young man standing by the bed. He looked almost as bad as her patient. "It's okay; you can all just stand over there." She motioned with her hand, as the three men staggered backward from here clutches. She pulled the cloth curtain around the bed, talking lightly to Sam, low voice echoing through the fabric and around the room. Her tone was a gentle whisper as she murmured words of comfort to her young patient. "Okay sweetie, let's get you out of that hospital gown." They could hear her calm ministrations through the curtain, Sam murmuring lightly, but no coherent words came from his lips.

John leaned against the stark white hospital wall, hand firmly griping his eldest by the arm, steadying him; Bobby stood opposite him, holding tightly to Dean's cast covered arm. John reached his free hand up and pulled the locket out of his shirt pocket, clutching the tarnished object in his fingers, as he gazed down at it. _Damn, __Beauregard Plymouth, __putting his sons through this. He would take care of it once and for all. His boy's would not be dealing with this damn ghost again! _He stuffed the necklace back to the pocket, and squeezed his eldest arm tighter. Dean's eyes gazed over at him, and he struggled to contain his emotions; anger, fear, concern, all bubbling tightly in his chest.

The curtain momentarily was drawn back, the nurse nodding at the three men before her. "I'm getting him something for pain. I'll be right back." She smiled and hustled quickly from the room.

Dean eased back down into the plastic chair, leaning his weary head to his hand; he pinched the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut. He was exhausted, but he would not rest until Sam woke up for good. His head was pounding, concern for his brother and a light concussion were obviously not a good combination. He eased his hand down to rest on top of Sam's as he heaved out a low breathe. He watched as the nurse reentered the room, and injected a liquid into Sam's I.V. He could hear his father and Bobby discussing something in low whispers behind him, but he did not feel like turning his head to look at them; he was too tired to care. He could only focus on one thing, and that was his brother.

oooooooooo

"We need to take the damn locket out to the gravesite and burn it." Bobby's voice was taunt, an angry whisper. He gazed at the back of Dean's head; his eyes cast a worried stare at the youngest Winchester, languishing on the hospital bed.

"Yea, but we can't leave Sam and Dean alone, Ole Bo might show up." John's eyes gazed to Dean, who had dozed in the uncomfortable chair. His lip's pursed into a tight grimace. "Dean is in no shape to protect his brother." He whispered, apprehension etched across his face. His taught fingers tugged through his scruffy hair. "I won't leave them; I need to know Sammy is okay."

"Okay, we wait it out together, protect your boys together." Bobby nodded slowly at the hunter before him. He watched intensely as John seemed to ponder his words, a small sigh escaping his lips as he nodded his agreement. "I'm not sure this is the best plan, waiting on burning the locket, but it is the only one I am willing to accept." John's strained features cast a long, concerned gaze at Bobby. He stepped slowly back to the bed, callus hand dropping lightly to the top of Sam's hair. His fingers gently tugged through the auburn locks, as he blinked back the concern that welled to his eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, but the other characters are all my own.

**Chapter 17**

**A Moment**

Sam's body shuddered, flinched, his voice making a small strangling noise in his throat. His eyes fluttered open; blinking slowly he gazed up at the blurry face of his brother.

He struggled to make some sense of the moment, where he was, how he got here, but nothing came to mind. His fought against the muted colors as they danced in his vision, to gain some recognition in his jumbled thoughts. He felt a reassuring hand pressed against his forehead, and he leaned into the touch.

"Sam…Sam, come on, look at me, wake up little brother." Dean whispered lightly against his face, causing Sam's hair to flutter with each breathe.

"John, I think he's waking up." Bobby's voice swirled in Sam's ears, as he held his eyes at half mast, confusion evident on his features, concern evident on their's.

"Sam?" John's voice was horse, stress unmistakable in the sound of it.

Sam heard the rustling of footsteps and then his Dad's face appeared, gazing worriedly down at him. Feeling suddenly dizzy, a harsh wave of nausea assaulted him and he quickly closed his eyes. The three men sensed his discomfort and pulled away, only Dean's hand remained, anchoring him to the waking world.

"Welcome back son." John's hand moved to Sam's arm, and then patted lightly against it. "You gave us quite a scare."

"What 'append?" Sam murmured as he tugged open his heavy lids, his puzzled eyes staring at his brother's bruised up face, butterfly stitches darted across his chin.

"Well, it might be better to say what didn't happen." Dean's face turned up in a lopsided grin as he rolled his eyes. "Ole Bo, Car, hitting a tree. Ring any bells there for you kiddo?" Tugging his good hand up, he rested it against Sam's good shoulder.

"Yes Sam, we need to talk about this damn locket, and why the hell you kept it to start with, you know better…." John's voice was sharp with anger, his eyes staring unhappily at his youngest. Sudden awareness hit him and his anger fell as quickly as it had risen, dwindling down to nothing as he watched his youngest seem overcome with anxiety, sudden fear that seemed to wash over his pale face in a moments notice.

Sam blinked slowly, mind racing to comprehend what Dean was saying. _He couldn't remember._ Fear suddenly seemed to clutch at his chest. _What happened to his brother's face? Was that a cast on his arm? Why couldn't he remember?_ He shuddered in a ragged breathe as he attempted to focus his thoughts on what Dean was saying.

Dean saw the confused, vacant look on his brother's face, and realized that Sam did not remember anything. He watched as panic rose to his kid brother features and he grabbed his hand tightly. "It's okay Sam, its okay. The doctor said you might have some short term memory loss. It's okay."

"He sure did Sam, that's what he said." Bobby offered from his position at the foot of the bed, eyes wide with anxiety, head nodding in agreement.

John's anger fell silently away as he gazed at the frightened face of his fifteen year old son. The apprehensive brought back memories of a small child, afraid of the dark, afraid of monsters in his closet. A boy, John remembered from long ago; a seven year old boy that needed his Dad. He was overcome with emotions, the need to 'fix this' and 'make it okay' tugged at his heartstrings. He reached his own hand down and lightly tugged the hair behind Sam's ear. "It's okay Son."

Sam blinked perplexedly at his father. "Dad, I…I…don't remember." His voice sounded shaky, his lids heavy as he struggled to stay awake.

"Shhhhh….you're tired son." John's voice was yielding, as he looked at his son's sluggish eyes filled with doubt and fear. "Just rest. Shhhhh." John stroked his thumb against his son's pale cheek. "Shhhhh." Sam's eyes fluttered and then pulled close as he drifted into a restless sleep, partial memories assaulting his confused mind.

The three concerned men watched Sam's body go limp, as sleep claimed him. They studied his face as he seemed to be tossing and turning, struggling in his sleep to understand what was going on, and concern lines creased up on each of their faces. John pulled his hand up and tugged it slowly through his hair, shoulders slacking slightly. He watched as Dean scooted his chair closer to Sam's bed and sat, eyes fixed on his baby brother, fingers tightly wrapped around his hand. Bobby was overwhelmed with the need to kick John Winchester's ass or give him a hug, he just couldn't decide which one he actually needed. _It was amazing how quickly John Winchester could go from hunter to Dad_. A small smile curled up on Bobby's lips; he shuffled his dirty boots on the floor and eased back against the hospital wall. They sat in silence for a while, all eyes watching Sam sleep. The distress of the situation, hung heavily in the antiseptic air.

"Okay." John finally whispered his voice low and riddled with worry. "We need to get rid of this damn locket, as soon as possible." He raised his eyes and glanced from Dean to Bobby.

Bobby pushed away from the wall. "I have been thinking about this. I think it is best if we wait, and let Sam do it." He ventured, eyes fixing on John Winchester.

"What?" Dean and John said in unison, both heads darting toward Bobby.

"I'm just afraid. The spirit is attached to him because he took it, I am worried if he doesn't destroy it himself, and it may not work. Not a chance I am willing to take, are you?" Bobby's eyes squinted up at both men.

"You didn't say anything about it before?" John's face perplexed. He brought his hand up and fumbled with the locket in his shirt pocket, pulling it out and then placing it back there.

"Well, I didn't really think about it, but this 'Ole Bo' seems like a pretty strong spirit. I just don't think we want to take the chance on being wrong."

"Well, I certainly don't want him getting to Sammy again." Dean rubbed his finger lightly across his brothers limp hand as he spoke.

"Okay. Bobby and I will go get our stuff out of the apartment. Then, when they spring Sam, we can go directly to the cemetery and burn this damn locket. We can bunk at Bobby's for a while." John eyes fell from Sam to Dean. "There's another hunt I want to check into."

"That sounds like a good plan to me." Bobby pushed away from the wall and stepped toward the doorway.

"Dean, watch out for your brother." John reached his hand down and pushed the long bangs away from Sam's face, and in a brief, un-John like moment, he brushed his lips gently against his youngest forehead.

Dean smiled at his Dad's surprise motion, "Yes sir."

"I'll be back Sammy." John whispered in his son's ear and stood, turning toward the doorway.

Bobby, leaning on the doorframe, winked at Dean, then hurriedly stepped behind John and exited the hospital room.

Dean sat silently gazing after his father. _His Dad was one of a kind, there was not doubt in his mind, and he loved his son's to a fault. His priorities might be crap, but he loved his boys. _ He shuffled down into the hard hospital chair, patted Sam's hand lightly and crossed his arms across his chest. He glanced up at the clock, 2:19 a.m. _It had bee a long day_. He continued to watch his kid brother as he struggled to stay awake, his eyes finally closing as his head slumped his chest. He was deep in his dream about girls in bikinis when the hospital door closed slowly; weaving grey mist floating out from the corner of the room.

The black vacant eyes of 'Ole Bo' gazed from his hiding spot. The cold air enveloped the room, and the apparition weaved its form over to the hospital bed, floating lightly above the ground. He gazed down at the sleeping boy. He snarled up his lips. _This was no fun at all, the kid needed to be awake if he wanted to enjoy the end._ He laughed silently to himself, and let his icy tendrils grasp at the blankets that were covering the boy. He tugged the blankets down and to the floor in one swift move as he flickered and faded into nothing. _This could wait; he wanted to let the boy see him when he finished him off._

Dean shivered lightly. _Somebody turn the damn heat on_. He tugged his arms tighter around his body as a sharp pain shot up and down his arm, causing him to quickly blink open his eyes, momentarily disoriented from sleep, he shifted in the hard plastic chair. _It is freaking freezing in here._ Reality sat in, he realized he could see his own breath coming out in little white puffs of air. _Sam, hospital, Sam_! He pushed haphazardly from the chair, shivering form gaping around the room, and then at his kid brother. Sam was curled into a small ball, arms clutched tightly around him, body shuddering profoundly against the stark white sheets; breathe coming out in white puffs of air. _Shit. Ole Bo?_ He brought his hand down to rest on Sam's frozen cheek, and he was relieved when his brother's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Dean.

"I…I…I'm c...c...cold…De...ee." Sam stammered out between chattering teeth.

Dean looked recklessly around the room, where were Sam's blankets_. That son of bitch. _

He stepped quickly to the end of the bed; spying the blankets he tugged them up and over his brother. Sam's body visibly shaking, his mind went into overdrive. _Got to get Sam warm. _

"Sam, scrunch over." Dean slid his leg up on the bed.

"WH…what?" Sam looked intently at his brother, his eyes clearer and more focused than they had been since he arrived at the hospital. He slowly comprehended what his brother was saying and slid over, allowing Dean to climb up on the bed.

"Com'er." Dean tugged Sammy into is arms, pulling the blankets up over them both, Sam's head rested comfortably against Dean's shoulder. He felt Dean's hands rubbing up and down his back, mindful of his shoulder, but still attempting to give his brother some heat. It had been a long time since Dean had done this, but he remembered it from his childhood. Dean and he snuggled together for warmth in the cold ratty motel rooms that their Dad always left them in. His mind filled with memories as he let his body go slack against his brother, and fell into a blissful, dream free sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or characters from the series, but the others are all my own.

**Chapter 18**

**My Brother's Keeper**

"So, the car is ready?" Bobby Singer's voice spoke firmly through the cell phone, head tilted, eyes focused on the stop light. "Ok, thanks, we will be by to get in just a bit." He snapped the cell phone shut and grinned over at John Winchester. "Cal says the car is ready, John. It's wasn't that bad. He said he wasn't charging me; just did it for free. You know, us junk yard mechanic's have to stick together." He grinned widely as his foot pressed on the gas pedal, truck directed to the Winchester's small apartment.

John smiled at Bobby. It was good to have someone he could count on, the hunting life was a lonely one; and friends were far and few, but he counted Bobby Singer at the very top of his friend list, right up there with Pastor Jim and Caleb.

"We can pick up the car and drop it off at the hospital after we get your stuff. That way you have your truck, and Dean has his precious baby back." Bobby rolled his eyes and let them dart from the road to John.

John grunted in agreement as he eyes fixed out the passenger window, thoughts far away.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders and gave up on conversation, John seemingly lost in his own world at the moment.

John's mind wondered back to Ole Bo, his son's, and Sam; the fact that a simple salt and burn had gone so terribly wrong. He hated himself for always acting like the hunt was his number one priority, having to drill it into them all the time. He loathed that it always seemed like he was so hard on them, especially on his youngest. But, Sam needed to buckle up and grow up. He needed to comprehend that evil was out there, and it killed his mother. He sighed, and watched the window fog up with his hot breathe; he loved his wife, Mary, and to this day, still missed her dearly, and he would not stop until he avenged her death. He vowed the night she died, he would not let anyone else succumb to evil, and he wouldn't. He just wished he could make his youngest son see that, understand it, and him. He shook his head; Mary always said communication was not his strong suit, boy was she right. He grinned to himself, and pulled from his reverie as the truck came to a stop in front of their run down apartment. "Let's get it done." He voiced firmly toward Bobby, and tugged the truck door open.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Dean felt a light tapping on his arm, at first he thought he might shrug it off, but it was persistent; and he blinked open his sleep filled eyes to see the young doctor standing in front of Sam's hospital bed, eyes gazing intently at them, hand lightly tapping his forearm. He realized he was cuddled up with his younger brother, and blushed lightly. He became conscious that it was still early, but the sun was up and shinning brightly through the hospital window.

"Can you hand me that pillow?" he muffled out in a whisper, gazing down at brown mop of hair propped up on his shoulder. Sam was sleeping contentedly. The doctor smiled and complied, handing the pillow from the end of the bed up to Dean, who shifted gently to the floor, sliding the pillow under this brothers curled up body. Sammy snuggled, nuzzled gently around the pillow, murmuring lightly, and then fell silent once gain. Dean nodded evenly to the doctor and the doorway; he ran his hands down his wrinkled shirt, wincing slightly at his caste wrist, and then made silent footfalls out to the hallway.

"How's he doing?" the doctor asked when they reached the hall, turning to gaze at the young man. _He seemed to care a great deal about his little brother_.

"He's been sleeping awhile." Dean smiled bashfully at the doctor, embarrassment for being caught curled up in bed with his kid brother overcoming him.

"Well, I'm glad you could help him get some rest." The doctor said as a smile coiled up on her lips.

"How are you doing?" she warmly asked, brown eyes darting over at Dean.

"Me? I am fine, just a broken wrist, bang on the chin. It's all good." Dean grinned, his eyes twinkling brightly at the young doctor.

"Good, good, you need to take care of yourself too." She quickly shifted her gaze from Dean to her clipboard and cleared her throat_. Jeez this guy was hot; even with the cut up face_. "We will let him sleep a little longer, and after lunch; if he eats and keeps it down, we will release him. He needs to rest though. He took a hard hit to the head, actually, several." _Obviously, her first reaction to the boy's home life had been incorrect; his brother had not left his side, and his father and uncle were always near by and full of concern. _

"Doc, he was having a difficult time remembering anything that happened, how he got here? Will he get that time back, those memories?" Dean leaned attentively toward the doctor.

"He may never get that time back, or he may only get bits and pieces of it. As long as he has no pain, blurred vision, and the head ache subsides in the next two weeks, he will be fine."

"Okay, I just was worried; he seemed scared and confused last night."

"His brain scan was normal; he just has a severe concussion. I am giving him pain medication for his headache and that shoulder." The doctor smiled sincerely at Dean, who returned her smile with one of his own.

"Thanks doc, thanks a lot." Dean watched as the young doctor walked toward the nurse's station, feeling confident that she no longer had any misgivings about his family, his father, or the way his kid brother was treated. He shuffled to the hospital chair, and once again took up his position, watching Sammy.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Sam's meandering thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he felt his brother's fingers tugging intently through his hair. He was resting comfortably, right between sleep and awake, the sound of his brothers light humming of Metallic settling in his ears. _Yep, that was Dean. _He struggled with his sluggish mind to comprehend where he was, why he was here. He did not dare to open his eyes, afraid his dull aching head would burst open from the actionHe remembered this; something his brother did when he thought Sam was not aware, when he was sick with a fever, hurt from a hunt, something he did when Sam was a child. He did not remember when this affection stopped, but he new it was because he became a teenager and advised everyone he was 'not a baby' and could 'take are of himself'. But, right now, Sam welcomed it, needed it, and reveled in it. So he lay perfectly still, just beyond waking, listening to his big brother's humming lightly as calm fingers tugged slowly through his hair. Sam took reassurance from the movement; the realization, he was not alone.

"Sam" the voice permeated his hearing. _He knew he should wake up, respond to Dean, but he hated to leave this comfortable place_. He pulled open his bleary eyes and blinking slowly as he saw his older brother. Dean's fingers stopped their movement, hand falling away from Sam's hair, his own eyes gazing intently at him.

"Hey there, kiddo." Dean attempted to hide his previous action from his brother, he shuffled back in the hospital chair, clasping his fingers together in front of him, smirk firmly planted on his face. "You're lunch is here, Sleeping Beauty. I thought you were going to sleep all day."

"Hey." Sam said softly, blinking his sleep filled lids. He pushed his weak arm against the sheets in an attempt to move up on the bed, to sit up. _Why was he so weak_?

Dean rose, and eased Sam up higher on the sheets, fingers of his good hand grasping him firmly and then patting down the blanket the covered his lanky frame. Dean laughed lightly. "We are a pair aren't we; both of us with one good arm."

Sam smiled and then cast an apprehensive look toward the tray of food, the aroma assaulting his senses, and causing his stomach to churn. "I'm not hungry." _His head still ached, his stomach felt queasy._

"Sorry kiddo, they won't release you until you eat." Dean removed the top from the hospital tray, eyes taking in the mystery meat, barely cooked beans, and some kind of Jell-O mold bouncing on the tray. He cringed lightly; he usually liked hospital food, but this… _Looks like crap_. It was the cup that caught his eye. He knew his brother, and he knew soup was about all he could hope to get down him right now. He quickly undid the top and eased the cup of broth toward his little brother. "Here, sip this slowly."

Sam reached out with his shaky hand, cup wobbling lightly in his grasp as he brought it to his lips, slurping in the warm liquid. _This tastes like crap_.

The young female doctor high heels tapped on the dirty floor as she pushed lightly on the door, eyes turned toward Sam. "Well, glad to see you're awake." She smiled brightly at her patient. She let her eyes wonder up and down the pale face young man lying in the bed. "I think you are ready to get out of this joint." She grinned as she scribbled information down on the chart she was holding. "He needs to see an orthopedic doctor in about two weeks, just to check out and make sure the shoulder is healing and has no further issues. You need to rest, and take your pain medication for that headache." She nodded lightly at Dean; eyes imploring that he take care of this young man, and then reached a gentle hand down and patted Sam lightly on the leg. "I will get your paperwork all signed; the day nurse will be in and we can get you are out of here." Sam smiled up at her and nodded his head in quick agreement.

Dean hastily pressed the buttons on his cell, as he watched the doctor walking with a slow gait form the room. _What a babe, and smart too. To bad Sammy was his main priority right now. _He waited impatiently for his Dad to pick up the call and was finally greeted with his booming voice.

"You got John Winchester here."

"Dad, Sammy's been sprung. Where you guys at?" Dean eyed the soup his brother had relinquished when the doctor came in; gingerly he picked the cup up and pushed it back in Sam's fingers. Sam rolled his eyes, but accepted the cup, tugging it lightly to his lips, face snarled up in disgust. "Drink it." Dean mouthed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or characters from the series, but the others are all my own.

**Chapter 19**

**Where's the Locket?**

Dean's eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed happily at his 'baby', parked neatly in the parking space just in front of the hospital. Bobby grinned, and nudged his elbow into John's side, noticing the smirk marking the older Winchester's lips. John gripped the arm of his youngest and steadied his rise from the wheel chair, as he tugged him to his unsteady feet.

"Bobby got the car fixed and it didn't cost us a thing." John smiled at his eldest, Dean looking almost giddy at the sight, feet scuffing quickly across the asphalt.

"Thanks Bobby." Dean tilted his head in a cocky grin over his shoulder at Bobby, as he made swift steps toward the car. His 'baby' was back, and it looked one hundred percent. _This rocks_...

"Okay, Sammy, lets get you in the car." John's grip tightened on Sam's arm and his youngest smiled weakly over at his him, eyes tracking his older brother's happy motions.

"Okay." Sam whispered he attempted to fight the vertigo that was assaulting him and leaned heavily against his Dad, John smiled unconsciously. _His youngest was still sick, that was obvious, because he would never let me help him like this. _ They shuffled in slow steps toward the Impala. Dean was already in the driver's seat, happy grin decorating his face.

Bobby opened the passenger door, as John eased Sam down into the seat, pulling the seatbelt around him had snapping it shut, tugging it and making sure it was secure. Sam gave his Dad an eye roll. _What am I, two years old_? John just smiled; glad his son was feeling well enough to even give him the look he was getting. He leaned down and directed his focus toward Dean.

"Dean, follow me to the cemetery, right behind Bobby. I already cleared out our apartment. All our stuff is in my truck."

Dean nodded and twisted the key in the ignition, Impala humming to a light rumble.

John slammed the passenger door closed, voice louder as he spoke with an angry tone. "Let's get rid of this damn locket and get out of this town." He glared at Bobby, briefly pulling the locket from his shirt pocket, eyeballing it, and then stuffing it back to its resting place. He patted his hand against his shirt, secure that the locket was still right where he left it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sam lay his blurry head back against the bench seat; rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyelids, willing his vision to clear. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and blinked in rapid succession. The view outside the window rushed past him, causing his stomach to churn, as he took in a hasty breathe to still the nausea. He could hear the low rhythm of "Stairway to Heaven" playing on the tape deck, the volume so low he had to strain to make it out. _Dean was being nice, not forcing him to listen to the music blaring from the speakers, the bass normally thumping loudly in his head_. He dropped his hands back toward his lap, his hand clutching the sling holding his shoulder and arm steady. He turned his head, still resting limply on the seat, to gaze at his brother. _Dean was a mess, swollen chin making his cheeks look puffy, caste wrist making it awkward to hold the steering wheel._

"You okay over there kiddo?" Dean asked, concern etched on his features, he darted his eyes from the road to his brother.

"I'm okay, just a little tired." Sam yawned widely, and Dean let a small smile curl up on his lips.

"Just rest, I'll wake you when we get there."

"I'm not tir'd" Sam mumbled as his eyelids fluttered and then fell shut, the light humming of the engine, and the low monotone of the music lulling him toward nothingness.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The three cars pulled slowly into the cemetery just outside of Standing Rock, Illinois, and the last resting place of one Beauregard Plymouth. John pushed open his truck door and walked steadily toward Bobby; who was already out of his truck and making his way toward the Impala. Both men converged on the driver's door as Dean shimmed out.

"Sam's asleep." Dean offered, leaning against the driver's door, looking at both men then glancing back toward his brother.

Bobby shifted his ball cap further back on his head, as he looked apprehensively at John. "We have to wake him up John, he needs to do this."

"I know, I know. We'll wake him in a minute" John reached his hand down and once again pulled out the locket from his shirt pocket, fingers nudging it into Dean's hand. "Here, you hold on to this, Bobby and I will get our salt guns. I ain't taking any chances on this freaking ghost hurting your brother again. Wake your brother."

John and Bobby made their way back to their vehicles, both finding and checking their guns for salt rounds. John shoved the gun in his belt loop, he handed the shovel off to Bobby who heaved it to his shoulder; he grabbed up Deans gun and they turned and waited for his boys.

Dean eased back down in the car seat, tucking the locket into his coat pocket; he leaned across and rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sammy, we're here. Wake up man."

"Dean?" Sam groaned out, eyes slowly fluttering open. He gazed at his older brother as he attempted to gain his bearings, eyes lurching out the front window to stare at the weed invested cemetery in front of them. _He remembered this place. _ He could see his Dad and Bobby making their way back toward the Impala.

"Come one Sam, lets get this done and over with". Dean grinned widely as he nudged his brother toward the passenger door. Sam reached his good hand gingerly across his lap and grappled with the door handle, pushing at the heavy metal; he felt the doorway wretch open, and stared up at the face of his father, who was now tugging him to his feet.

"I got it." Sam advised, his Dad's fingers falling quickly away from his stubborn son's arm. He let go as Sam swayed slightly. _This kid was so freaking hard headed. _ He quickly whipped his head around, eyes imploring Dean to do something.

"Yeah, sure you do", Dean offered as he nodded to his Dad and nudged past him to take up the spot next his kid brother, arm securely wrapping around his waist as he yanked the gun from his fathers grasp.

"Deeeeeaaaaannnn." Sam struggled momentarily for control, shoving away from his brother's hold, then giving up and relaxing into it.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean grinned.

"Jerk."

"Dean, Watch your Brother!" John's firm military tone assaulted Dean's ears and he nodded his head in confirmation. He tugged Sam tighter around the waist, attempting not to jostle his brother's slung arm. He was sure they were quite a sight, and the gun he was carrying was actually sending a pain up his arm from his wrist. _Probably not good to be carrying this gun with my broken wrist._

They made slow, steady steps toward the gravesite; John leading the way, and Bobby pulling up the rear. Sam and Dean flanked securely on their trek across the old cemetery by the older men. Coming to a halt, Dean wedged his hand in his coat pocket, yanking out the tarnished locket, and shoved it in his brother's hand. "Here you go Sam. Let's burn this damn thing." He pulled Sam tightly around the waist, tugging his finger in his brother's belt loop, as Sam's confused face looked over at him.

"Why do I have to do this again?" Sam queried in a low, barely audible tone. No memory coming to his mind; he simply waited for Dean to tell him.

"Damn it Sam, how many times we got to tell you this." John's voice was harsh with the words that blurted from his lips.

"John", Bobby spoke abruptly, eyes flashing at John Winchester. "Don't."

"You took it from here when we were doing a salt and burn, Sam. Remember?" Dean offered in a soft, reassuring tone. Sam's trusting eyes darted from Dean to his Dad, and back to Dean.

John gazed down at the dirt they had tossed back over the burned bones of Beauregard Plymouth several weeks back, anger clenching up on his features, shaking his head in a disbelieving movement. _His son did not even remember what had happened; this damn ghost was going down once and for all._ He nodded toward the headstone, as Bobby handed him the shovel. Bobby grinned, recognizing the look in John Winchesters eyes; he took up position, salt gun poised to shoot at anything that moved. John quickly began digging, both brothers' eyes watching their Dad dig up the charred remains of 'Old Bo'.

The cold wind whipped suddenly around them and Sam shuddered unconsciously. John felt the drop in temperature, eyes never darting from his goal. _This is not good_. He dropped his head and impulsively began digging faster, dirt flying haphazardly over his shoulder.

Dean noticed if first, the misty haze that seemed to be rising up behind Bobby's head. "Bobby, behind you", Dean's voice thundered out. He stepped instinctively in front of his brother, hand nudging him behind him; adrenaline pulsing through his limbs as he clutched the gun up. He watched in horror as Bobby was lifted up from the ground by the iridescent grasp of 'Ole Bo'. _Shit, no shot available without hitting Bobby._

John did not glance up, his hands hastily pulling the shovel up faster, digging with renewed determination. _Son of a bitch_.

Bobby flinched at Dean's words, and swung around quickly, apparition of 'Ole Bo' bearing down on top of him. He tugged the salt gun up to shoot, but the speed of 'Ole Bo' surprised him, the gun dropping from his fingers as he was lifted off the dirt, and flung with large force against a grave marker five feet away.

The ghastly form of 'Ole Bo' made a shudder rise to Sam's lips. He watched as 'Ole Bo' flung Bobby around like a rag doll, then rose quick and descended toward him. He felt himself being knocked backward and stumbled on his unsteady legs, locket falling from his fingers and tumbling to the grass. _Locket, where's the locket? _ He watched wide eyed as 'Ole Bo' made his way toward him; and he dropped to his knees, eyes darting around the dirt and grass, looking for the shiny object. _Where is it_? He cringed inwardly as he heard Dean's voice ringing loudly into the crisp, cold air; "Stay away from my brother you son of a bitch."


	20. Chapter 20

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or characters from the series, but the others are all my own.

**Chapter 20**

**Protecting my Son's**

The charred bones of Beauregard Plymouth stared up and John Winchester as the shovel broke through the last of the dirt, rocks and burned casket. He could hear the commotion going on around him as he hastily heaved the shovel to the ground beside him. His eyes darted over to see Bobby, lying unconscious leaning up against a headstone; Dean weaving and dancing around attempting to distract 'Ole Bo' in his direction, gun poised to fire, but afraid to shoot, fear of hitting his kid brother. Then his eyes fell on his youngest, stooped on the ground on all fours, pale features and recent bruises a direct contrast in the sunlight. His eyes were wide with anxiety; his fingers fumbling around in the cold grass attempting to locate the locket that had fell from his grip. He could see 'Ole Bo's' icy tendrils curling over the top of Sam's neck from above him, the ugly apparition wearing a ghastly grin, cold dark eyes leering down at his boy. He new at the moment, he had to move, do something, protect his son. He bound out of the grave in one single motion, arm reaching across and grabbing his youngest around his midsection, tugging him hard to retch him from 'Bo's' ascending grip. As he tumbled to the side with his boy, his eyes caught sight of the shiny silver object to the right of Sam's boot, his free hand quickly reached for it, his voice thundering from his lips. "Shoot it Dean, Shoot IT NOW." He lunged Sam to the hard ground, a sudden breathe escaping from his sons' lips as he crushed heavily on top of him, John's body shielding Sam from the wavering form of 'Ole Bo'.

Dean watched the entire turn of events happen in slow motion, the locket flying from his brother's hand as he was knocked around; 'Bo's ' misty form resting just above him, frozen fingers poised right above Sam's neck. He pointed the rock salt gun at the apparition, but Sammy's head was in the way; he was afraid to shoot. Then his Dad appeared in a flash, bounding out of the grave with fierce motion, knocking his brother from his knees, to the ground, his hand grabbing the locket from the grass, and then lying directly on top of Sam to shield him from 'Ole Bo's' grasp. He heaved in a large gulp of air as his father's loud order permeating the air. "Dean, Shoot IT NOW!" There was no hesitation on Dean's part; he knew a direct order when he heard it. He also knew his Dad would protect his brother, so he hastily pulled the trigger and let the rock salt pellets escape against the ghost, and the back of John Winchester's jacket.

The silence was sudden, and Dean attempted to gain recognition of what had just occurred. He slowly dropped the gun to his side, as the mist of 'Ole Bo' screeched out into the thin air. He eyes fell to his Dad and brother, both perfectly still. John laid heavily against Sam, the man so large, you would not know Sam was there except for the mop of brown hair that was peeping out from under one shoulder. He could see movement being made by Bobby in his peripheral vision, as he struggled to gain purchase against the grave maker, and push himself up, but his eyes stayed fixed on his Dad and brother. He made quick steps toward the two, hand reaching down and checking his Dad's pulse, he had one. He dropped his gun and tugged and rolled him off of his brother, grimacing at the sight of tiny pellet holes on the back of his jacket. His eyes fell to Sam's prone form lying pale and limp beneath him. He watched as Sam's eyes fluttered and then blinked, dazed expressive look staring up at him, a shaky breathe escaping his lips.

"Sam?" Dean gripped his brother's shoulder and looked concerned eyes at his face.

"Wh…a..t hap'nd?" Sam whispered, a shaky hand coming up to his forehead and resting just above his eyes.

"Ol Bo's' what happened; again!" Dean bent down and wretched the locket from his Dad's fingers, his arm tugging Sam up against him. "Come on we have got to get this damn thing burned, right now; and you have to do it."

Sam wobbled as he was hoisted by his brother to a standing position; he lightly shook his head as he weaved and Dean held him tightly against him. He blinked to clear the fuzziness as he felt Dean stuff the locket in his cold fingers. His eyes fell to the object clutched loosely in his fingers, and then over to his brother. _He trusted Dean knew what was going on, as he did not seem to have a clue. _ "Come on." Dean's angry tone making Sam move his feet as they staggered the four steps to the side of the grave.

"Okay, drop it Sammy." Dean nudged his brother's hand forward, and Sam did as asked, watching the shiny object fall into the grave, landing atop the charred remains. Dean shoved the lighter fluid in Sam's fingers. "Give it a large douse of this." Sam swayed heavily, and Dean's hand came down over the top of his, giving the can a large squeeze inside Sam's fingers. Sam blinked at his brother, and then watched as Dean dropped the lighter fluid to the grass, tugging matches from his pocket, he handed them to Sam. "Can you do it?"

Bobby Singer walked unsteadily over and leaned down to John Winchester who was pushing to a sitting position on the ground, movements slow and pain ridden. "Damn rock salt" he heard John grumble. He leaned a hand down and helped John pull to his feet, both man swayed momentarily, but then gained their footing and stood firmly, eyes fixed on Dean and Sammy.

Dean kept his arm firmly wrapped around his little brother's waist as Sam ripped the matches from his fingers, and struck one with a bright sizzle that permeated the silence. Sam glanced at his brother, who gave him a quick nod, then dropped the match into the grave and on top of the tarnished locket. The flames shot up and out of the grave for a mere moment and then settled back to a small scorching flame. Sam looked from the burning flame in the grave, up to his Dad and Bobby who had shuffled to the other side of the open grave. He blinked his large owlish eyes at them both, a tightness rising in his chest. _Was his Dad mad at him? What did he do? He couldn't remember_.

John recognized the look of sheer innocence and fear on his son's face, the look he had seen on his boy when he was growing up, always full of questions, getting into to trouble, and making him angry, but too young to understand why. He saw the hesitation, the need for approval, that he so seldom gave, staring starkly back at him. The need to yell at Sam, reprimand him for getting the locket in the first place, replaced with shear joy that his son was alive, and that 'Ole Bo' was not going to hurt him anymore clinched at his chest. "You did good, Sammy." He offered in a gentle, caring tone as a large smile rose to his lips.

Dean felt Sam's body relax against him, and he smiled over at his Dad. He knew his Dad had been furious about this entire episode, but he also knew his brother had been hurt, and did not remember any of it. It was good that his Dad recognized it too, and just this once, he was letting it go. He knew his Dad and brother had a rocky relationship at best, the older Sam got the more rebellious and difficult he was becoming. Dean just hoped his Dad realized it was all part of growing up, and would give his brother the space he needed to make the right choices.

John heaved a mound of dirt back in on top of the grave of Beauguard Plymouth and yanked the shovel to the ground, easing his head down to rest on his clasped hands on the handle, relieve pumped through his veins. He glanced over at Bobby who gave him a nod of approval. He then turned to look at his son's; Sam sitting against a head stone, resting, Dean's hand on his shoulder, making sure he stayed firmly planted there. Dean's eyes gazed up to meet his Dad's and he blurted out suddenly, without thinking about it, "Dad, whatcha doing over there? Leaning on a shovel, hoping for a hole?" Sam and Bobby's eyes grew wide as they both comprehended what Dean had just said, Dean realized he had just repeated his Dad's words back to him, and he swallowed convulsively, the thought of a pissed off John assaulted his brain.

John surprised them all, when he snorted, and then let out a loud chuckle; that rolled into a laugh that bellowed loudly in the air. The amusement in John's features and laughter was contagious, and they all began to laugh heartily at Dean's assessment of the situation. John pushed the shovel back into the mound of dirt, eyes gleaming from the laughter, smile edging up on his lips.

The End!!


	21. Chapter 21

**Leaning on a Shovel, Hoping for a Hole**

By: supernaturaldh

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or characters from the series, but the others are all my own.

**Epilogue**

The evening sunlight was falling just above the trees as the Winchesters and Bobby made their ways back to their vehicles, the remains of Beauregard Plymouth finally salted, burned, and sent back to hell. John glanced down at his watch, noting the time as 2:30 p.m. _Still time to get Sam's school records._ He flung the shovel in the bed of his black Chevy and gave Bobby a grin. "Well, we finally got that son bitch where he belongs."

Bobby nodded in agreement, as he opened his own truck door, and placed his salt gun on the seat. He reached a hand up and tugged off his ball cap, rubbing lightly against the lump on the back of his head. "I need a beer."

Dean and Sam brought up the rear, Dean's hand still grasping his brother at the elbow, to make sure he was steady. Sam was compliant, he looked tired, worn out, and Dean was glad this whole 'Ole Bo' episode was done. He eased Sam down into the passenger seat and looked over at his Dad.

"Dean", John gazed at his nineteen year old, "Take Sam, and go back to the school; he needs his records for the next one. Then meet me at Bobby's."

Dean watched as his Dad leaned down slightly to see Sam sitting in the passenger seat, head leaned against the window, eyes closed. "Don't dawdle; you both should be resting after your accident. I'll be looking for you to be there soon after we are."

"Yes sir." Dean scuffed around to the trunk and stowed his salt gun, then made steps to the driver's door, taking his spot behind the wheel. He checked Sam to find him sleeping peacefully against the window. He reached around to the back seat, gripped the wool blanket and pulled it over his sleeping brother, tugging it up to his chin. He smiled to himself as he started the Impala and pulled out on the roadway, going the opposite way of his Dad and Bobby.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The Impala pulled to a halt just in front of John Davis High School, school just out, the students all exiting the building for home. Dean reached his caste hand up and tapped Sam lightly on the shoulder. "Come on little brother, we need to get your records from the school office."

Sam shifted in the seat, eyes blinking open to look at Dean. "Get my records for what?" Sam mumbled in a sleepy tone, confused face gazing over at Dean.

"You're school records, come on." Dean wretched open the heavy metal door and made steps around the car toward his brother. Sam's hand opened the door; he pulled the sling over his head, and removed it from his shoulder. He shrugged on his jacket against the cold afternoon breeze. Dean's hand fell to the top of his little brother's arm, but Sam instinctively yanked it away, sudden recognition creeping across his face "I got it Dean."

Dean shrugged. _Sam obviously did not want everyone seeing him needing help walking straight. So be it, but he would be right next to him the whole damn time. _

Sam's long legs made slow even steps across the school lawn, Dean so close; he could feel his brothers breathe on his neck. _Jeez Dean, some personal space here dude._

"Dean, I'm fine, really." He whispered, turning his head and giving him the standard Sammy eye roll. Dean gave him a cocky grin, and continued his pace right on Sam's heels.

Sam stopped abruptly, causing Dean to ram haphazardly into his brothers body.  
"Damn it Sam." Dean blurted out, as he rolled on the balls of his feet to steady himself. Sam's body stood stock still, Dean stepping to the side to see what had caused this sudden stop in movement. Dean's eyes grew wide as he absorbed the petite black haired women, with piercing blue eyes standing directly in front of Sam. _Katie Hacker? Damn it_. He glanced from her face to his brothers. Sam's face was lax, eyes wide, as he looked at the girl in front of him.

"Ex... excuse m...me." Sam whispered, staring intently at the girl who gazed at him.

Dean rolled his eyes. _This bitch again? Okay, Sammy, lay it on her. Tell her off, put here in her place._

Sam shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his hands pushing down in his pockets, as his eyes fixed on the pretty girl in front of him. _She looked so familiar, but he just could not place a name with her face. She was sure pretty... _

"Hi Sam." Katie's flirty lips curling up in a grin. She leaned in closer toward Sam's face, hand clasping at his jacket. "How are you?" She looked intently at him, swinging her hand back and forth, Sam's jacket clutched in her hand. She noticed the bruises and cuts and lifted her hand gently to touch his cheek; Sam flinching from her fingers. "I have missed you, Sam."

"Missed me? Who…who are you?" Sam mumbled as he pulled back from the girl, uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. Dean felt his brother tense up and then sway lightly on his feet. He placed a firm hand on Sam's back.

"Keep your hands off my brother." Dean barked as his caste hand came to tug Katie's fingers away. Sam's eyes darted from Katie to Dean, curious look rising on his face.

He noted her furious leer at Dean as she took a step back, eyes squinting up in anger.

_Maybe she wasn't so pretty after all_.

"Come on Sammy, we got to get your records." Dean nudged his brother lightly forward with his hand.

"Sam, don't you want to talk to me. I'm not going out with Scott anymore. I told him he lied to me about the locket. Sam? I really like you." Katie whined as her voice rose up behind them.

_Oh shut up bitch_. The tone of Katie's voice made Dean cringe. _He so wanted to punch the girl's lights out. _He continued to nudge Sammy onward.

Sam walked unsteadily around Katie and toward the school doors, Dean's hand grounding him and pushing him forward. He stopped on the steps, hand gripping the glass door. _He wished he could remember the last few days, but all he got was a total blank, no matter how hard he concentrated_. "Dean, did I know her?" Sam asked as he turned to look inquisitively into Dean's face.

Dean stopped, eyes fixed on his kid brother, memories of his harsh encounter with Katie Hacker rushing in his head. It only took a moment for him to consider all the variables; tell Sam the truth, causing him to need all the details and hurting him all over, or just letting it go, knowing full well that Sam would experience the troughs of young love all over again, at the next school. While, he knew he could not stop if from happening, shield his brother from the hurt; he could protect him this time. With his mind made up, he smiled warmly at his brother. "No Sam, you did not know her at all."

**Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story! **

**supernaturaldh**


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